


Far From Their Bones

by carlynroth



Series: Far From Their Bones [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Science Fiction, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 108,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9290630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carlynroth/pseuds/carlynroth
Summary: How would things have been different for our intrepid crew if Voyager had a counselor on their journey?All that Talia had wanted in life was to be a deep space counselor exploring new frontiers with Starfleet. Instead, she resigned to pilot raiders for the Maquis. When her cell is stranded along with a Federation starship in the Delta Quadrant, she unexpectedly gets her wish. But, is this really how events were supposed play out?Part I in the “Far From Their Bones” trilogy.





	1. Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> The Star Trek universe is the intellectual property of Paramount and CBS. I do not own these characters or the plot of the series Star Trek: Voyager.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is not intended to be an accurate representation of current mental health practices. Creative liberties have been taken to integrate the topic with Star Trek canon and to add dramatic tension.

Personal Log, Eelo Talia: Stardate 46753.9.

I turned in my resignation today. All I can think is... well, shit.

My whole life's work— all of my goals, my training, my hopes and dreams— I left it all behind at Starfleet Medical. I keep thinking about the people I've let down— my father, my brother, my professors. I feel like I've betrayed all of them.

As bad as I feel, I'm still not sorry.

Tomorrow, I board a transport to Bajor. I must confess that I am more than a little intimidated by what my life is about to become. Aradne says I'll do well, and that I'll adjust as she did. Easy for her to say. She at least has some memory of Bajor before, and is native to that world. For a foreign-born mixed-species person like me, it isn’t quite that simple.

Physically, I am built like a Bajoran. Nobody has to know that my father is Terran if I don't want them to. I even dropped his name from mine to make it easier for them to accept me.

That's what felt the most like betrayal— walking into the courthouse and changing my name from Talia Eelo-Peters to Eelo Talia. For the first time in my life, I won't be recognized as Admiral Peters' daughter. Now, I am _tahl’ral yan Kav’Eelo Fayeni_ — the first-born daughter of General Eelo Fayeni, a national hero.

Yep, that’s right; although I’ve never in my life stepped foot on Marnah’s homeworld, I’ll be a celebrity-by-proxy the moment I reveal my family name. I even look just like her— the same copper-red hair, turquoise eyes, and pale skin. There’s no escaping the fame at all; I’ll just have to deal with it.

I understand the culture well enough— Marnah made sure of that. I know the language just as intimately as I know Federation Standard. I was raised to speak both. Besides, with a degree in xenolinguistics, any changes from the last fifty years won't be hard to pick up. Aradne says they'll just be happy to see the return of another refugee, and even more happy to have a licensed, Federation-trained counselor available to help with the healing and rebuilding process.

As for the questions people will ask about Marnah, and about my childhood in Starfleet... well, Aradne recommends that I respectfully decline to answer.

Even though I'm nervous to go, I am also excited to see it. The way Marnah talked about Bajor before the Cardassian Union annexed the planet, it always felt like this mystical and surreal place. Now, it will finally be real. I can see the neighborhood where Marnah grew up, the university where she studied, the temple where she worshipped the Prophets with her family, and the house where they were slaughtered. I can have an orb experience. I can eat hasperat and drink springwine. I can study art.

Who knows? Maybe I'll love it. Maybe it'll make me forget about wanting to live in deep space.

Okay, well, maybe that's unlikely. But, at least I won't have the Federation always breathing down my neck, worrying that I might join the rebels like Marnah did. And maybe I'll see her there. No one has heard from her in two weeks.

God, I hope I find her there. She has to be okay.

* * *

It was almost two months before Marnah— that’s Bajoran for ‘Mother’— surfaced in the capital city of Ashalla. By the time she got there, she already had sixty Bajorans from several other provinces at her back, calling her _Kav’Eelo_ — a general— and eager to follow her to the still-forming Maquis alliance. Apparently, she hadn't gone rogue, although that’s the rumor Starfleet Intelligence heard. Only the highest levels of Maquis leadership knew what she planned to do, and they had approved it.

Why?

The Maquis needed to build up more forces, to fight back against the increasing pressure their small Federation settlements were getting from the Cardassian military. Although there was _technically_ a peace treaty between the Cardassian Union and the United Federation of Planets, there was still the tiny unresolved issue of a few hundred borderworlds that neither the Federation Council nor the Cardassian government could agree on how to fairly divide between the two of them.

While the Federation continued using diplomatic efforts to resolve the issue peacefully, so as to not restart the war, the Cardassian Union simply employed bully tactics to get their way. Living on borderworlds was hard enough without Cardassians randomly dropping in and harassing the colonists, trying to get them to move elsewhere. It was a dirty game, picking fistfights with civilians or burning shops and farms, but the Kardasi were dirty people.

After surviving fifty years of occupation, Bajorans knew better than anyone how Kardasi operated. This is why Marnah had resigned her Starfleet commission, traveled all the way to the edge of Federation space, and taken up the cause of bringing together the remnants of Bajoran Resistance and Federation rebel factions. She united these two movements under the Maquis alliance, but they were still too weak to win.

Dual citizenship and mythical status played to her advantage with Bajorans, so she went recruiting.

Most of the Bajoran ministers wanted to ingratiate themselves to the Federation, and they knew that the Federation wanted my mother. Once she arrived in the city, they sent their militia to arrest her. The militia refused. On Deep Space Nine, a Federation outpost in Bajoran space, Marnah’s supporters had sabotaged the station's communication systems. The officers couldn't get Federation back-up to help capture her.

Marnah had been a twenty-year-old university student when the Cardassian Union annexed Bajor in Earth-year 2328. Born to the _Arina'inzi d'jarra_ — the governing caste— she studied policy in preparation for serving the Council of Ministers alongside her parents. When the Cardassians took Bajor, their first move was to wipe out all _Arina’inzi_ — every minister, military commander, student, and child whose birthright it was to lead the Bajoran people. Marnah slipped past invading forces and rushed home from school, only to find that her parents and siblings had all been murdered.

All, that is, except for the youngest member of the family. Aradne hid herself away, and survived the slaughter.

Knowing they would both be killed if they were found, Marnah decided to take Aradne and flee. Sneaking up on three Kardasi who were guarding a shuttle, she slit their throats, stole their vessel, and disappeared in the midst of the fray.

A young _Arina’inzi_  boy, who had himself evaded the slaughter, witnessed her escape. He fled to the sewers, where he encountered members of an anti-occupation group and told them what he saw. Up until that point, the group had been small and unpopular. For almost ten years, they had tried to convince the government to drive out Kardasi forces that had trickled in and established a military presence on Bajor. They were widely considered to be little more than fearmongers. Having been proven right, the boy gave them a hero to hold up before Bajorans as inspiration to fight back. They renamed themselves the Bajoran Resistance, and it wasn't long before a warrior-mythos about the brave Eelo _tahl’ral_ spread across the entire planet.

Unknown to the Bajoran people, Marnah had made the bold move of flying into Federation space rather than hiding on a border planet. Her shuttle was intercepted by a Federation starship, where she demanded asylum. The captain was so impressed by her story that he suggested she apply to Starfleet Academy. He even offered to vouch for her, filling a top requirement on her application since she was not a Federation citizen.

Marnah took the captain’s advice, and was quickly accepted into the academy. That’s where she met my father.

Bajorans viewed Marnah as a hero. This was especially true with the former resistance fighters, many of whom joined the Bajoran militia after occupation’s end. Loyalty to her symbolic status became apparent when she made a triumphant return to Ashalla— her family’s hometown. Militia refused to arrest her, in spite of the council’s order to do just that. Instead, they became her guard.

Marnah gave as much time as she could to meet people in the city. She told them how nearly one million Bajorans still lived in ramshackle camps on endangered borderworlds of the Valo system, too poor and weary to journey back to Bajor. She told them of the Cardassians— how they mistreated these Bajorans and prevented them from leaving. She revealed that neither the Bajoran government nor the Federation Council were willing to risk conflict with the Cardassian Union to help these innocent people. Then, she told them about the Maquis alliance— brave Federation off-worlders who endured similar persecution, and had united with the Bajoran Resistance to fight their common enemy.

For forty years, Marnah served the Federation, who gave refuge to her and Aradne. She became one of Starfleet’s most distinguished officers— an expert in politics, strategy, and combat. She spent most of her career on the frontlines, maintaining tenuous peace between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. How many times had she scraped by fate as a security officer, sent subordinates to their deaths as a commander, or drilled cadets at the academy as an instructor?

Despite all that, it seemed like she had been reborn. The cause of liberation had lit a fire in her _pagh_ that I had never seen before. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring.

Yet, my chest ached with the weight of her loneliness. She hid it expertly, but I could feel it coming off of her in waves. I saw sadness in those turquoise eyes— eyes that I knew even better than I knew my own. To Bajorans, family was everything, and women were the head of the house. It was a woman’s job to rule and protect her family; it must have felt like betrayal for Marnah to abandon that role for the sake of Bajor. She missed me deeply, as she missed my father, brother, and sister.

I knew, right then, that I had no choice but to go with her. If I didn't— if I let her leave while I stayed on Bajor and kept myself out of trouble— the weight on my chest would get heavier every day until it crushed me to death.

That night, I kissed Aradne goodbye for the last time. Then, I followed Marnah and one hundred fifty other Bajorans into the Badlands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marnah: Mother  
> ja’marnah: my mother  
> d’jarra: caste  
> pagh: soul


	2. Little Eelo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia details her time in the Maquis, and her relationship with Chakotay.

The nature of being with the Maquis was constant movement. We were on permanent active duty, taking one mission after another with little-to-no break in between. For those of us who had come from Bajor, Valo, Earth, or another Federation planet, we had no home other than a ship and a temporary base in the Badlands.

The colonists, at least, could still visit their homeworlds. For many, however, this was even worse than being cut off from home completely. Colonies had been turned into war zones, where Cardassian militarism ruled with brutal force over the small Federation communities that settled there. The more that Kardasi oppressed them, the more people resisted. The more resistance people showed, the harder they were punished by Kardasi soldiers. It wasn’t long before the Union began decimating entire settlements in single military strikes, slaughtering insurgents and their families without regard for innocence.

To Cardassians, outsiders were guilty by default.

All of the Maquis felt like refugees to some degree. We were uprooted trees, and not all of our roots had come cleanly out of the soil from which we were pulled. We left pieces of ourselves behind in places of great pain. In this, at least, I was no different from the rest of them.

Despite the high level of stress we lived with every day, there was no use for a counselor in the Maquis. Nobody had time to stop and talk about feelings when each new day brought another mission that meant risking our freedom or our lives— and honestly, no one wanted to talk anyway. We lived on the run, so we became very skilled at cramming negative feelings into locked-up boxes within ourselves. Of course, we lived outside of the protocols of the Federation, so we turned to fist fights and sex to relieve the stress when those boxes got too full.

Surprising as this may be to some, I was no different in that aspect, either.

When I first arrived, the Maquis leadership wanted to have me trained as a medic. My graduate training had taken place at Starfleet Medical, which was all they cared to know about my qualifications before deciding on my assignment. I tried to explain that I had no medical training at all, that I would be more valuable to them as a pilot and a translator. They did not listen.

I was nothing but a pretender in their eyes— a child bringing toy knives to a disruptor fight. I never experienced the hardships they had known for most of their lives. I grew up on a Federation starship, never needing to work or pray for my next meal, never being persecuted for the ridges on my nose or for being born too close to Cardassian space. I had only known peace, adventure, and opportunity, while these people had known endless betrayal and abuse. Eelo or not, I would have to work twice as hard to earn their trust and respect.

Or, I would have to quickly prove that I was more like them than they assumed.

“Bring me three untranslated Kardasi files,” I demanded, “and I will prove to you why it would be a waste of everyone’s time to turn me into a triage nurse’s bitch.”

To my great fortune, they agreed.

Within a week’s time, I was at the flight control center— or ‘ _con_ ’ for short— of a runabout, waiting to make my first flight through the nefarious Badlands. I knew that I would not be the only new recruit testing that day, but I was entirely unprepared to see the familiar, handsome face of my old academy best friend, Tom Paris.

A year before I left Earth, Tom was dishonorably discharged from service in Starfleet. He pled guilty to falsifying reports in order to cover up his own piloting error, which had cost the lives of three fellow officers. Once the verdict was issued, he disappeared without ever saying a word to me.

Yet, there he was on that junky old runabout, ready to test for a piloting job with the Maquis. When he stepped into the cockpit, all tall and muscular with his dirty-blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, I couldn't decide if I wanted to kiss him... or punch him. His expression moved rapidly from surprise to shame, but he quickly hid both behind a practiced, charming smile.

And I caved, just as I always did with him.

The test went like old times. Navigating through plasma storms in the Badlands was effortless, as if we shared a single mind. We both passed the assessment with ease, although the instructor seemed to be more than a little irritated by our constant childish banter.

Within a week of our flight test, I learned that Tom had vanished. It wasn’t until much later that I found out where he had gone, so I did my best to shrug it off and carry on with life. After all, there were more important things to focus on.

Having proven my skill at the con, I was able to rejoin the cell Marnah commanded. I worked as a pilot, translator, and code-breaker in the months leading up to the Federation-Cardassian Treaty of 2370. Once the treaty was signed, and several Federation-occupied worlds were ceded to the Union for appeasement, everything rapidly changed.

* * *

The day Marnah introduced me to Chakotay at the base on Daenyr I, I knew things were about to be very different for me.

“ _Ja’ital_ ,” she said, gesturing to a tall, well-built man of about forty. “This is Chakotay. He and I used to be colleagues at Starfleet Academy."

My heart stuttered the moment I saw him. His skin was tanned, and his black hair was salted sparingly with grays. His bone structure was solid and squared, and he sported the sort of lean muscles and calloused hands that spoke of cadet-drilling and manual labor. Above his left eyebrow was some kind of tribal tattoo that one couldn't help but notice right away, making him look all the more distinguished.

With a polite smile, he extended his hand towards me. “Glad to finally meet you, Eelo,” he offered, respectfully addressing me by family name.

My windpipe constricted as I reached out a hand to grasp his, likely making my expression look awkward. I cleared my throat. “Thank you, sir. But, please, call me Talia.”

His eyebrows rose in shock, and his tattoo with them. “After just a handshake?”

“I grew up among Terrans, and am much more accustomed to using my given name.”

He nodded and released my hand. “Alright. I'll use your name as long as you promise not to call me 'sir.'"

I smiled. "Deal."

“I’ll just let you two get acquainted,” Marnah said pointedly before taking her leave.

I learned that Chakotay was also an accomplished pilot, but he needed someone at the con so he would be free to give more attention to commanding the crew. After a while, he started nudging me towards command, though I didn't notice it at first. We didn't have much of a hierarchy in the Maquis, but it wasn't long before the crew was treating me like his number one.

The Bajorans had long called me _Eelo'chali_ — a term of endearment roughly translating to Little Eelo— but nearly everyone in Chakotay’s cell picked up the term despite the fact that most of them were from Federation colonies and spoke little to no Bajoran. In Marnah’s Bajoran cell, my mixed heritage and Starfleet upbringing had made me an outsider. Some had flat-out resented me. But in Chakotay’s cell, it was barely an issue.

Little by little, I began to find a place within the Maquis.

* * *

It took a good bit longer to address the growing sexual tension between myself and the man that Marnah had transferred me to. Chakotay’s first contact in the Maquis was a woman named Seska Paqu— one of Marnah’s recruits from a Northeastern province of Bajor. She had a reputation for being hot-headed and impulsive, but she was wickedly smart and unafraid of taking risks. It was Seska who managed to find Tom again, and she used their mutually hedonistic impulses to convince him to run supplies for the Maquis on a small cargo ship he acquired. For a time, he seemed to truly captivate her.

Then, she met Chakotay.

Before they even laid eyes on each other, Seska and Chakotay were a dark catharsis waiting to happen. Chakotay’s spirit had been shattered by a brutal Kardasi attack on his tribe. He lost his home, his parents, and any hope of reconciling the troubled relationship with his father, and it was a charge he would hold against himself for years to come. Seska, on the other hand, was a twisted piece of work after having grown up in one of the worst labor camps on Bajor. Not even the Valo Bajorans could relate to the horrors she had witnessed. She threw herself at Chakotay the moment they met, and his wounded heart never stood a chance.

Dark hair and green eyes made Seska a rare and highly-valued kind of beauty, even in her native province. Marnah had taken one look at her and known she was born of old nobility. Truly, she was a great asset to the Maquis.

She was also one of the most toxic people I had ever met— more toxic even than the Starfleet bureaucrats who pushed me out of the service. Seska had wormed her way into Marnah’s good graces, then threw that away to snag her new cell leader by the hip. But I saw her for the user she was, and I despised her.

To his credit, Chakotay broke off the relationship within a few weeks of falling into it. I’d hoped he might want someone new to warm his bed, but he insisted on sleeping alone. Starfleet Command frowned on superiors having relationships with subordinates, and try as he might to fight it, Chakotay was still Starfleet at heart.

The night Chakotay and I finally came together was quite nearly the day we died. We were two torpedoes away from destruction when I managed to shake Gul Torak in the Badlands. As soon as we set down on Daenyr I, the crew went straight to the courtyard on base and broke out whatever liquor we had stashed away.

Normally, when attracted to someone, I was pretty forward about it. I didn’t like wasting time. For months, I buried my attraction to Chakotay because I knew he needed space to grieve his losses and adjust to his new identity as a traitor to Starfleet. It wasn’t an easy adjustment to make— I knew that quite well— and Chakotay was a very private person.

On that night, however, with the alcohol and adrenaline running hot through my veins, I decided that I just didn't care anymore. As the crew trickled away to their bunks, I nudged Chakotay’s leg with mine.

He didn’t react, staying focused on the task of peeling a label from a bottle. Firelight danced along the glass surface of the bottle almost the same way it moved in his eyes.

“How many times am I going to have to touch you before you do something about it?"

He smiled. "A few more, maybe."

Leaning closer to him, I purred, “Then tell me what I have to do for you to take me to bed right now.”

"Promise me that Fayeni won't gut me if I do."

I laughed. "You can stare down Guls who would love the chance to torture you to death, but Marnah scares you?"

He met my eyes, his own full of genuine respect. "She's a powerful warrior, and a fierce protector."

That moment, my bravado vanished.

In the year since leaving Earth, I had grown quite used to the variety of ways people— particularly men— reacted to strong women like myself or Marnah. Moving closer to Kardasi territory seemed to shift the attitudes of colonists, as if the Kardasi sense of patriarchy was a disease that infected every other culture it came into contact with. It had happened to Bajor, too; the occupation turned many of our once-matriarchal cultures into incubators for resentment and power struggles between the sexes.

Chakotay, however, spoke as if Marnah’s strength was something sacred.

I smiled, not to be coy or flirtatious, but out of genuine appreciation for his words. "She won't gut you. Actually, she has a lot of respect for you." I put a hand on his knee. "She also respects me as an adult who can make my own choices."

He brushed a lock of hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear. “And this is what you want tonight?”

I slid my hand from his knee to his thigh, heart thudding at the smoldering look in his eyes. “This is what I want tonight,” I whispered. Then, pressing my lips to his, I uncorked the need that I had kept stored in my belly for so long and poured every last drop onto his tongue.

Chakotay’s empty bottle hit the dirt with a soft _clink_ , and his hands quickly found their way to my hips. With sly fingers, he teased the skin just beneath the hem of my shirt, and I couldn’t stop the giggle that came at the sensation.

”Ticklish,” he mumbled against my lips, his mouth twitching with amusement.

“Only sometimes,” I said before silencing him with another kiss. Carefully, I straddled him and settled just enough of my weight on his lap to encourage his arousal with the rolling of my hips.

He groaned, his body responding instantly to mine. He darted his tongue across my bottom lip, drawing me into his mouth, and I tipped my head forward to deepen the kiss. I could have fucked him right there on our bench by the fire pit— I was shameless enough to do it— but Chakotay was a better person than me by far.

“Not here,” he murmured, voice already gone raspy.

“Okay,” I said, my voice trembling as much as my muscles. Sliding onto my feet, I took a step back and tried to catch my breath.

In one swift move, Chakotay swept my knees out from under me and carried me across the courtyard to his makeshift quarters. Being the cell leader came with the benefit of having his own, compete with a free-standing bed rather than a bunk. With his foot, he jammed the door shut behind us, and then he crossed the room to where he laid me gently down on his bed.

Chakotay's demeanor threw me way off. He treated me with a reverence I didn’t think I deserved, and it made me want to savor the experience.

He locked his dark eyes onto mine as he moved over me, and my desire swelled even more. How could I be so impulsive as to think that a quick and desperate coupling would have satisfied my need, especially on a day that could have easily been our last? Chakotay would not be another fling. I didn’t know what he would be to me, nor did I want to, but even then I knew it was going to be more than I expected.

Reaching for his face, I traced the tribal tattoo over his left eye. Then, I dragged my fingertips along his cheek, strong jaw, soft lips, and bobbing throat. He was a living work of art, so beautiful that I couldn’t help but stop and stare. He watched me silently as I took him in, his breath warm and thick with whiskey.

I wanted to taste him.

Combing my fingers through his thick, dark hair, I pulled him to me. The kiss was slow and intentional, acquainting our lips and our tongues with every bit of each other's mouths. He rocked against my hips, the hard length of him moving back and forth like a boat amidst the waves. With his lips, he traveled along my jaw and down to my neck. He kissed, nibbled, and sucked, playing me like an instrument that sounded of moans and sighs and mewls.

We removed each other's clothing piece by piece— shrugging off vests, toeing off boots, unbuckling sheaths and holsters and belts, tugging at the hems of shirts. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I pitied whichever of our unfortunate comrades shared the wall beside us.

That thought didn’t last long. 

We moved slowly together, savoring the experience of learning to commune in a whole new way. Not wanting to rush, we allowed our pleasure to rise and fall without pushing for resolution. Every other person, feeling, and experience fell away from me, giving me a rare moment of actual, honest-to-God happiness.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, Chakotay?” I asked at one point.

He responded with a grin that glistened in his eyes and revealed those adorable dimples in his cheeks. “Would it be narcissistic to say that it started the first day we met, when you almost choked at the sight of me?”

I smiled back, my face flushing. “It would be the truth.” I ghosted a kiss over his lips. “When did you realize you wanted me, too?”

“That's a hard question to answer with so little blood in my brain.”

I kissed him again, then whispered, “Try.” Resting my forehead against his, I added, “Or, did you not know it before tonight?”

“I knew from the beginning,” he admitted before pressing a kiss to my mouth. “You're smart.” He kissed me again. “Fierce.” And again. “Sexy as hell.” He kissed me deeply, sucking my bottom lip between his teeth and running his tongue along the length of it. “And, so damn cute the way you tried to hide your feelings. Do you have any idea what you did to me when you looked at me like that? It drove Seska mad.”

I smiled, sinfully satisfied at the knowledge that I had won his affections even while she was taking him into her bed. Normally, it was considered bad taste for a Kendra-Bajoran to show jealousy over a lover, or to view sexual relations as a competition, but the rules were muddier with a Terran.

Besides, I _really_ hated Seska.

Then Chakotay pressed his perfect lips to mine again, and all thoughts of my rival quickly vanished. Without another word, we surrendered ourselves to the siren-call of pleasure, climbing up and up and up together until we slipped over the edge and fell freely into a much-needed release.

That night, Chakotay became the anchor I had been looking for since cutting loose from Marnah’s cell. Although I had no way to know it at the time, it would be my relationship with Chakotay that carried me through the unfathomable challenges yet to come.


	3. The Caretaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia, Chakotay, and the rest of their cell are pulled across the galaxy to the edge of the Delta Quadrant, where they encounter a Federation starship, the USS Voyager. Both commanders are missing one young crew member, and the only clue they have to their whereabouts is the mysterious array that brought them here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 1x1 Caretaker

They say that the hardest part of a mission is the getaway, and more often than not, they're right. For two weeks, our mission went almost exactly as planned. We met with traders and dealers, and we resupplied several colonies with fresh weapons and ration packs. We even managed to raid a small Cardassian outpost thanks to some brilliant planning by one of our newer recruits, a Vulcan ex-Starfleet tactical officer named Tuvok. We didn't find much useful intel, but we left with a good haul of medical and operational supplies.

After two weeks of flying under the radar, we snagged a bit of bad luck in the form of a Cardassian intelligence probe as we left the Dorvan Sector. It wasn't long before Gul Evek was on our tail, and once again it was up to my talents for shaking him in the Badlands before he destroyed our ship. Luckily, Evek didn't get very far before he was hit and disabled by a plasma storm, and we all let out our breath.

Chakotay turned to me. "Can you plot a course through these plasma fields, Talia?"

"I can, but it will be an indirect route."

He nodded and stood. "We can use the time to make some repairs."

As I began plotting our course back to Daenyr I, Chakotay made his way around the cockpit to check the other stations. I was so focused on my readings that I nearly fell out of my seat when the ship was struck by an energy discharge that entered the cockpit just behind me.

"Curious," Tuvok mused in his typically dispassionate way. "We've just passed through some kind of coherent tetryon beam."

He hardly had time to look for the source before his console notified him of an even more strange and dangerous phenomenon, one that would change the course of our lives forever. Tuvok told us we were directly in the path of a massive displacement wave that would hit us in under thirty seconds. We sprang into action, but our engines were running on fumes and the wave violently overtook us anyway.

The next thing I remembered was waking up on the floor beside my seat, looking at Chakotay's worried face as it hovered over me, calling my name. It didn't take long for his square jaw, dark eyes, and tribal brow tattoo to come into focus. I grabbed one of his hands and hugged it to my chest, whispering his name hoarsely and offering him a weak smile. "Tay."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he smiled back and brushed a lock of copper hair away from my face. "You really know how to make a man worry."

I tried to blink away the grogginess clouding my head and formulate a coherent thought. "We're alive." I glanced around the room and found it, more or less, in one piece. A few simplistic observations started to emerge from the blur in my mind.  _We have air. The crew are making repairs. We're not moving. It's dark. Wait, why is it dark? We're… in open space?_ I looked out the windows and saw a million stars shining in the black. "What—?" I started to sit up, but my head and stomach both twisted in protest.

A dark-skinned hand entered my field of vision as Tuvok offered me a space-sickness bag. Black, harshly-angled eyebrows framed brown eyes that were deep and expressive— something most people missed when interacting with the logic-driven and emotionally-repressed Vulcan man. Perhaps it was just me reading into him, but there was something ineffable behind those eyes that had intrigued me from the very first moment I met him.

Taking the bag Tuvok offered me, I nodded my thanks even as I managed to, somehow, keep the rising bile down. Chakotay propped me up against himself while Tuvok gave me an anti-nausea agent, administered to the artery in my neck with a hypospray. I closed my eyes and pressed my face into Chakotay's shoulder while I waited for the dreadful feeling to pass.

Chakotay smoothed my hair, probably more to calm himself down than me. "Take it slow, Talia. You hit your head pretty hard. Do you remember anything from the array?”

Array?

“The farm simulation? The holographic people giving us food? That medical lab with the big ugly needle where they did tests on us?”

I frowned into his vest as I tried to think through the fog in my mind. Had I heard him right?

He pulled back slightly so he could see my face. “You don't remember?" Nudging my chin with his finger, he guided my gaze towards the main viewport.

The array was massive, with six arms extending out in all directions. Pulses of energy shot out from it towards a nearby star system.

"I don't understand," I said.

"The displacement wave carried us here from the Badlands. We barely had enough time to secure all the systems before we were transported inside it."

"There is an unknown life form operating the station," Tuvok explained. "It held the crew for several days and performed biometric assessments on each of us. Ten minutes ago, it transported most of us back."

I blinked again. " _Most_ of us?"

Chakotay looked out at the array and swallowed hard. "B'Elanna didn't come back with us."

My whole body stiffened. B'Elanna Torres was our cell's chief engineer, a young but brilliant half-Klingon-half-Terran academy dropout who Chakotay had recruited after saving her life on a cargo transport. She was somewhat like the baby sister of our cell family, so hearing she had been taken struck a particularly sensitive nerve.

"Can we get a subspace message to the Maquis," I asked, "request help to rescue her?"

He turned back to me with an expression that I would never forget. "Talia, no one can come help us. I don't know how, but that wave carried us seventy thousand light years away from home. We're in the Delta Quadrant."

The cockpit fell silent for several seconds as I processed what Chakotay had just told me.

"There is another matter of some importance," Tuvok said. "Upon our return, we detected an Intrepid-class Federation starship nearby."

My muscles tensed. " _Starfleet_?"

"It is likely that they were brought here the same way we were. However, for the moment, there is no one on board."

“Where?” I asked.

Tuvok stood and stepped over to the operations station, at the fore of the cockpit. He tapped the touch-controlled interface, activating the main viewscreen. Our natural view of the array faded as a computerized, holographic image took over the glass panel above our con.

The classic structure of a Starfleet ship usually featured a large, rounded saucer section containing crew and passenger quarters, along with nearly everything the people living there could need or want to access. This would be connected by a long, thin neck to the secondary hull of the ship, called the stardrive section, where most of the ship’s systems were built and maintained. Starfleet had built the majority of its ships this way for over a hundred years— ever since the twenty-third century.

But the vessel that appeared on our viewer was unlike any modern class of Federation starship that I had seen. She had no distinguished neck, instead connecting the primary and secondary hulls directly to each other. This gave her a more condensed and solid structure. The saucer section was no longer a saucer, but an oval-shaped spearhead. Her build seemed to acknowledge a need for more rugged and durable ships in the fleet. Extending out from either side of the stardrive section were the twin warp nacelles, glowing electric blue.

Painted across the bow of the ship were the identifying markers, ‘ _NCC-74656, USS_ Voyager.’

She was state-of-the-art, I guessed. It was unlikely that she had been made to chase Maquis raiders through the Badlands— designing and building starships took years to do— but she had almost certainly been appropriated for that purpose. Never before had I seen a Starfleet vessel that could handle the challenge of navigating the plasma-storm-riddled Badlands— which was precisely why the Maquis built our bases there. But if any Starfleet ship could survive our turbulent swath of space, it would be this one.

Chakotay squeezed my hand reassuringly. "The crew are busting their asses getting repairs done. We were here for at least a day before they arrived, so we should have some time. But, I don't intend to be around when that Starfleet crew gets back to their ship. There's no way we can outgun them."

"What about B'Elanna?" I asked quietly.

Chakotay sighed and rested his forehead against mine. "I don't know yet, but I'll think of something. We won't leave her behind."

* * *

Ten hours later, the tactical station— a computer console located at the aft of the cockpit— alerted Tuvok that the Starfleet crew had been returned to their ship.

"Well," Chakotay said, straightening up from the engineering console where he had been working with Seska, "I guess we're out of time."

I hovered between ops and the con. "How are those engines looking, Seska?"

After replacing the EPS manifold she had been working on, and closing the panel, Seska rolled out from under the engineering console and stood to take the station. "They're not even close to maximum efficiency, but they'll get us far enough away to hide."

"The array is transmitting energy pulses to the fifth planet of a system five thousand kilometers from here," Tuvok said. "I am detecting multiple moons that would sufficiently mask our signature from the Federation vessel while we continue our repairs."

Chakotay took his seat at ops, while I took mine at the con, and he quickly started us on our familiar warm-up routine. "Activating EPS relays, bringing up the sensor array."

"Raising shields," Tuvok declared.

"Engaging impulse engines," reported Seska.

I breathed in deep as my fingertips connected with the con. _It's just a concussion, Talia. You can do this. Focus_. "Heading, thirteen mark three-two-zero."

The order to engage had barely left Chakotay's lips when the ship jolted.

"Sir," Tuvok informed us, "the Federation vessel has locked us in a tractor beam."

"Initiating full reverse," I answered, changing our course. Despite my efforts, we remained tethered to the vessel. I cursed and slapped my console. "Damn it! No effect."

"Tuvok, are the weapons systems operational?" Chakotay asked.

"Affirmative," Tuvok replied. "However, I must remind you that the odds of successfully engaging them are very slim."

"We don't have to beat them,” Chakotay countered. “We just have to outrun them. Charge phaser banks and target their—" He stopped mid-sentence as his console flashed with a notification. "They're hailing us." He looked at me, and back at his console. Then, he opened the channel.

The viewscreen flickered to life, revealing a trim but authoritative-looking Terran woman with a tight brown bun and bright blue eyes. Her black uniform was capped with crimson across the shoulders, denoting her position in Starfleet’s command division. Peeking out from beneath the uniform jacket was a grey turtleneck bearing four brass pips, which identified her rank as captain.

"Commander Chakotay," she said. "My name is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship _Voyager_."

Next to me, Chakotay flinched. "How do you know my name?"

"We were on a mission to find you when we were brought here by the array.”

Stones dropped inside all of our stomachs. So they _had_ been sent into the Badlands to capture us, and they were already aware of our identities. _But how_?

Janeway continued. “One of our crewmen, Ensign Harry Kim, is missing. Was he transported back to your ship by accident?"

“No,” Chakotay stated simply. I expected him to cut the transmission then and there so we could make our escape. Instead, he admitted, “A member of our crew is missing too. B'Elanna Torres, my engineer.”

"Well then, Commander," Captain Janeway decided, "it appears that you and I have the same problem. I think it makes sense to try and solve it together. Don't you?"

Chakotay looked at me, seeking a second opinion. While my first impulse was to shoot _Voyager_ and run, my mind reminded me of something else. How the hell were we supposed to get B'Elanna back if we were working against these people? We would never succeed— not in our condition, and not against their ship. So, I did the most un-Maquis thing I could have done, and nodded my agreement.

Chakotay turned to the viewscreen. "Three of us will transport to your ship." He quickly cut the transmission and turned to Tuvok and me. "Arm yourselves. They won't try to detain us until after we help them recover their crewman, but we need to show that we will be ready when they do."

Tuvok and I nodded. I reached inside my vest to where I had a small, concealed blade strapped under my breast. I checked that it was secure in its sheath, and joined Tuvok at the weapons locker.

Chakotay turned to Seska. "You have the ship. If it comes down to it, leave us behind and get these people back home. Understood?"

She nodded, false confidence not entirely masking the confusion and fear in her green eyes. "Yes, sir."

Three of us stepped onto the transporter pad, standing back-to-back. "Lower shields and beam us directly onto their bridge," Chakotay instructed.

When I materialized in the middle of _Voyager’s_ bridge, I unexpectedly found myself once again looking into the handsome face of my old friend, Tom Paris.

In the far corner of the bridge, Captain Janeway's tactical officer pulled his phaser on us. Janeway threw up a commanding hand. "Put down your weapons. You won't need those here." Without hesitation, she walked right up to Tuvok and smiled broadly at him. "It's good to have you back, Mister Tuvok."

Tuvok turned to Chakotay. "I must inform you that I was assigned to infiltrate your crew, sir," he stated matter-of-factly. "I am Captain Janeway's chief of security."

I glanced from Chakotay to Tuvok, Janeway, and Tom. Moments slowed to a crawl as my mind ricocheted between shock, anger, and understanding until, quite involuntarily, I started laughing. Chakotay glared at me for the outburst, but I didn't care anymore. What did it matter, anyway? Starfleet had two aces up their sleeves. We had been caught before we ever left for our mission, and now we had no choice but to cooperate with the people who had outplayed our hand, just so we could avoid losing even bigger. I had to laugh, just so I didn't scream.

"I'm sorry," I cried, catching my breath. I looked at Janeway and gestured to my head. "I'm a little concussed."

She frowned.

Chakotay still glared.

"Oh come on, Chakotay," I snapped. "As if waking up on the other side of the galaxy wasn't enough. Now, we find out that they put a Vulcan in our cell to spy on us, and then hired Tom- _fucking_ -Paris to show them the way! That's got to be the most ironic goddamn thing I've ever heard."

Tom, at least, appreciated my sense of humor, responding with a chuckle and flashing that damned charming smile. "It's good to see you, too, Tal." His blue eyes shifted left. "Hello, Chakotay."

Chakotay was incensed. He turned his glare to Tom. "At least Tuvok was doing his duty as a Starfleet officer. But you— you betrayed us for what? Freedom from prison? Latinum? What was your price _this_ time?"

At that, Captain Janeway went toe-to-toe with Chakotay, looking him squarely in the eye as if she were unaware of the significant difference of height between them. "You are speaking to a member of my crew. I expect you to treat him with the same respect as you would have me treat a member of yours."

My eyes widened as Chakotay accepted her scolding and closed his mouth. I schooled my face into indifference, but truth be told, I was impressed. Right then and there, I knew I liked that woman.

Having settled our differences, at least for the time being, the captain redirected our focus back to finding our crewmen. “Now, we have a lot to accomplish, and I suggest we all concentrate on finding our people and getting ourselves back home.”

“Based on my initial reconnaissance, Captain,” Tuvok said, “I am convinced we are dealing with a single entity in the array. I would suggest they scanned our computers in order to select a comfortable holographic environment. In effect, a waiting room to pacify us prior to biometric assessment.

“An examination?” Tom asked.

“It is the most logical explanation,” Tuvok replied. “Why else would they have released us unharmed?”

“Not all of us were.”

Janeway wasted no time. “Break out the compression phaser rifles,” she ordered Tuvok. “Meet us in transporter room two. We're going back. We'll divide into teams. Mister Tuvok, while Chakotay and I are looking for Torres and Kim, you and Miss Eelo will try to find out as much about this array as you can. It brought us here; we have to assume it can send us home.” At that, she looked at Chakotay. “Agreed?”

Chakotay nodded.

Janeway turned to the officer at tactical. “Mister Rollins, maintain red alert.” She then looked to a young, wide-eyed Bajoran woman manning the operations station, which was located opposite tactical. “Crewman Celes, Keep us on constant transporter locks.”

The woman gave a jerky nod. “Yes, Captain.”

Chakotay and I followed as Janeway and Tuvok made their way towards the turbolift. Tom shouted after us, calling Janeway to a halt. “Captain. I'd like to go with you.”

The captain eyed him suspiciously. “If this has something to do with what Chakotay said—“

“It doesn't,” Tom insisted. “I'd just— I'd hate to see anything happen to Harry.”

Janeway studied his affect for a tense moment before giving him a nod. “Come on.”

As we entered the turbolift, Tom gave me apologetic look. I quirked my mouth upwards in response, offering silent reassurance. _Why do you insist on believing you're such a bad guy, Tom?_

* * *

After we beamed over to the array, Tuvok and I split off from the rest of the team. Fingering the square, metallic scanning device Janeway had issued to me, I flipped it open and smiled to myself.

Tuvok raised an angled eyebrow. "Have you forgotten how to use a tricorder, Miss Eelo?"

"Not at all," I reassured him, setting it for data collection before I started scanning. "I just never thought I'd be using one of these again. Didn't figure Starfleet would be keen on taking me back after I was done with the Maquis, you know? I guess it reminds me of simpler times."

"Do you wish to return to service in Starfleet?" he inquired.

"I never wanted to leave in the first place, Tuvok, but they treated me like a criminal before I had done anything wrong. Even after I resigned and moved to Bajor, I only meant for it to be temporary. I never intended to join the Maquis."

"Until your mother recruited you."

I nodded. "She didn't recruit me on purpose. In fact, when I saw her on Bajor, she specifically told me not to join her. But, as much as she cared about those people, she missed our family deeply. I could almost feel her loneliness, and I didn't think I could live with myself if I let her go alone."

"Curious. I consider you to be one of the more logical Maquis I have met, yet that is a highly illogical choice to make."

I chuckled. "Yes, well, if there is such a thing as a universal truth, I think it must be that love makes its own logic. Even Vulcans can't escape that." Before he could argue, I added, "Don't you dare tell me that Vulcans don't love. I've studied Vulcan psychology. It may be more complex than what the rest of us experience, but it's still love."

"A rare perspective," he conceded. "Who did you study under?"

"Professor T'Lona. She was one of my favorites. She also taught me how to use a Vulcan meditation lamp."

He raised his eyebrows slightly with approval. "Such a practice is certainly beneficial when one is required to maintain emotional distance from clients enduring significant inner turmoil."

"Yes, it became quite foundational to my self-care routine as a professional. I still use the technique, though I don't meditate as often as I used to."

"I did not find the lifestyle of the Maquis to be conducive to a consistent practice of meditation. It is impressive that you make the time to practice at all."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't want people to think I'm just another Bajoran woman who will jump to warp at every little thing. Besides, I may never be the deep space counselor I wanted to be, but I could start a private practice someday, and I don't want to lose my touch."

He paused and looked at me. "It would not be entirely impossible for you to rejoin Starfleet. Difficult, perhaps, but with help, it could be accomplished."

"Is that an offer, Tuvok?"

"That would depend on choices you have not yet made," he said carefully. "However, there are many at Starfleet who would be gratified to see you recommissioned, myself included."

It wasn't a very realistic option. I was not convinced that the Maquis cause was wrong, and Starfleet would never consider such a request as long as I still sympathized with the rebels. Still, I smiled at Tuvok's kindness. "I'll keep that in mind."

We continued scanning for a few more minutes before meeting up with the rest of the team. Tuvok informed Captain Janeway of a console that we believed might control the array's operations, adding that we found no signs of our people. They, too, found nothing. It seemed that our crewmen were no longer on the array.

Faint banjo music drifted towards us, and Chakotay made his way over to an old man who was playing on a nearby bench. Questioning him proved frustrating, though, since he regarded us as little more than another minor bipedal species. He said that we would have to leave our people behind; the rest of us lacked what he needed, but they might not. He said that he had to honor a debt, that he didn't have the time to explain, and we wouldn't understand anyway. We tried to convince him that we could help him, that we wouldn't leave without our people, and that we were too far from home to get back on our own, but the conversation fell apart.

The next thing we knew, we were standing on _Voyager's_ bridge once more.

* * *

Chakotay and I opted to stay on board Voyager while both ships traveled to the fifth planet of the nearby system. That was where the array was directing its regular energy pulses. Captain Janeway offered to have the ship's Emergency Medical Hologram— EMH for short— treat my concussion while we made the trip, so I could think more clearly and hopefully avoid having anymore ill-timed emotional outbursts.

Partway there, we came across a debris field that had been claimed by a local scavenger; he introduced himself as Neelix, and was willing to trade water in exchange for his guidance in finding our people. He informed us that we were not the first aliens to be transported across the galaxy by the alien aboard the array. Neelix also told us that the individuals he separated from their crews were sent to be cared for by the inhabitants of the fifth planet, a people called the Ocampa. He didn't know much about the alien in the array, but he did tell us one thing.

The Ocampa referred to him as ‘The Caretaker.’


	4. Needs of the Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janeway, Chakotay, and their unlikely team track their missing crew to a nearby planet where they have been transported by the entity known as the Caretaker. But when they uncover the truth of the situation, Janeway is faced with a difficult decision that threatens the lives of an entire species... and Voyager's only way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episodes: VOY 1x1/2 Caretaker

Neelix was a strange, funny man.

An average-sized humanoid with yellow-toned skin, freckle-like spots, and long slashes of platinum hair shooting straight from the top of his head and the length of his jawline, Neelix’s looks were as quirky as his personality. He was a jumpy yet friendly man who was at once cheerfully optimistic and sharply cynical. He had a wide breadth of experiences— a soldier, trader, negotiator, traveler, mechanic, miner— yet he lived alone on a small cargo ship, scavenging for parts to sell.

Neelix was amazed by the notion that we could replicate water, which was evidently quite scarce in the region of space we had found ourselves in. After bringing him and his ship aboard _Voyager_ for the trip to Ocampa, he went rather overboard in utilizing the replicator technology in his guest quarters. He replicated himself a selection of foods from nearly every Federation world, two rather unfortunately-patterned pantsuits, and, of course, every flavor and form of water listed in the database.

But perhaps the most wonderful thing about having Neelix around was that he had no bias against myself and Chakotay due to our being Maquis. Initially, this would seem like an obvious non-issue, as he knew nothing of our conflict with the Federation and was entirely unimpacted by it. However, being a small ship, it wasn’t long before some Starfleet evangelist had brought him up to speed on why Chakotay and I were not to be trusted over Captain Janeway.

Neelix’s response was to visit the guest quarters I shared with Chakotay and strike up a conversation.

About ten years prior to our meeting, Neelix had been a resistance fighter himself. His own homeworld of Talax had been brutally conquered when he was only an adolescent. His entire family was slaughtered, and he was forced to flee. He had been a bit of a vagabond ever since, working temporary jobs here and there, meeting new people and learning about a variety of cultures, yet never feeling a draw to settle anywhere for too long.

After sharing his own story, he listened attentively as Chakotay and I shared ours.

And when Captain Janeway called us all to the transporter room, he smiled and said, “No matter what happens, I am glad to have had the opportunity to know you both.”

* * *

Captain Janeway, Tuvok, Tom, Chakotay, Neelix, and I all beamed down to the surface of the fifth planet at a settlement that Neelix had directed us to. The planet was entirely made up of desert; Janeway, a scientist before she moved into command, found that the planet completely lacked neucleogenic particles in its atmosphere, leaving it incapable of producing rain. Ramshackle buildings constructed from the ruins of an ancient city stood before us, and some of the rough-looking occupants ducked into structures near the place where we materialized.

"Why would anyone want to live in a place like this?" Tom wondered aloud.

"This area has many rich cormaline deposits which are very much in demand," Neelix explained.

"So the Ocampa use it for barter?" Chakotay asked.

Neelix shook his head. "Not the Ocampa, the Kazon-Ogla." Seeing the captain's confusion at his correction, he clarified. "Kazon sects control this part of the quadrant. Some have food, some have ore, some have water. They all trade and they all kill each other for it."

Janeway's brow furrowed. "I thought you said the Ocampa had our people."

Neelix sidestepped further explanation smoothly, quickening his pace towards the Kazon-Ogla as a group of them advanced on us. "My friends!" he exclaimed excitedly. Some of the men disarmed us, while the others seized Neelix and carried him to structure in the middle of the settlement where they deposited him in front of a wall.

Contradicting the friendly act that our acquaintance had been putting on, the Kazon pulled their weapons and pointed them in the Talaxian's face. Instinctively, I reached for the blade hidden at my ribs, but Chakotay grabbed my hand and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. _Right_ , I reminded myself. _We're doing this the Starfleet way_. I dropped my hand and allowed the Kazon men to escort us to the building across from Neelix, where they forced us to the ground.

Neelix laughed nervously when the men threatened to kill him. "Very amusing. Yes, yes, we all love a good joke. Now, I must speak with your Maje, the ever-wise Jabin!" A Kazon man with a definite air of authority about him emerged from another building, and Neelix excitedly called to him. The man glared at the Talaxian, who was at least smart enough to read the cue and get straight to the bargain. "Water, Jabin. I have water to replace all that I borrowed. Their ship has technology that makes water out of thin air!"

The man sniffed suspiciously at a bottle that Tom offered to him, then took a swig from it. When he asked if we had more of it, Janeway tapped her combadge and gave _Voyager_ the order to energize. Two large tanks of water instantly materialized on the surface, and the Kazon's eyes widened with disbelief.

Janeway got right to the point. "This man led us here suggesting we might find a people called the Ocampa. Do you know where they are?"

Jabin gestured to a petite young woman with short blonde hair and a large black eye who had appeared in the doorway of the building behind him. "She is Ocampa. Why would you be interested in such worthless creatures? They live only nine years, and they make poor servants. We caught her when she wandered to the surface."

Jabin explained that the energy pulses from the array provided energy and food to the Ocampa, who lived in a subterranean city where they had access to the only source of water on the planet. He also explained that the Caretaker had established a barrier to prevent anyone from invading their settlement and taking the water by force.

Neelix begun trying to persuade Jabin to trade the young Ocampan woman for more water, but Jabin asked for _Voyager's_ technology instead. Without warning, the Talaxian grabbed Jabin by the throat with a small disruptor weapon he'd concealed on himself and forced the Kazon to drop their weapons. Then, pointing his disruptor at the water tanks, he shot a large hole in each. Jabin and the rest of the Kazon rushed to the tanks with smaller containers to save what they could. Meanwhile, Neelix called for the woman to join us, then suggested to Janeway that she have  _Voyager_ beam us out.

When we materialized in the transporter room, Neelix hugged the woman close and looked deep into her eyes. "My dearest," he said to her. "Didn't I promise I'd save you?"

* * *

While the EMH treated Neelix’s partner in Voyager's sickbay, Tuvok dealt a stoic Vulcan scolding to our unusual ally. "If you had told us what you had planned, we might have anticipated your irrational behavior."

“Irrational?” Neelix asked defensively. “We got out of there, didn’t we?”

“Excuse me,” interjected the sprite Ocampan woman as she sat up on the biobed. “Don’t blame Neelix.”

Setting down the dermal regenerator with a firm hand, the EMH circled around the biobed to confront the rest of us standing just outside of the surgical bay. “That’s enough! This is a sickbay, not a conference room. Visiting hours are over. Everyone except my patient is to leave immediately.”

Crossing her arms in front of her, Captain Janeway regarded the balding hologram with a single raised eyebrow. “Computer, end Medical Holographic Program.”

 _Voyager’s_ artificial intelligence chirped its acknowledgment of Janeway’s command, and the EMH evaporated into nothing.

The Ocampan woman looked at Neelix, who had moved to her bedside. “I never should have gone to the surface. I'm too curious. I'm told it's my worst failing.”

“No, no,” Neelix countered, taking her hand in his. “It's a wonderful quality, Kes. Your most endearing one.”

She smiled sweetly at the compliment.

The captain stepped up to Kes’s bed. “Would you be willing to take us underground to look for our missing crew?”

“I'm afraid Jabin was right,” Kes replied. “There's no way to get down. The tunnel I came out has been sealed.”

Janeway gave a slight smile. “We don't need a tunnel. We have the ability to transport there directly.”

“Captain,” Tuvok interjected, “our sensors did not pick up any indication of an underground civilization. The subterranean barrier Jabin described may be responsible. It might also block our transporter.”

“There are breaches in the security barrier where it's begun to decay. That's how I got out.”

The captain turned to Tuvok. “Have the transporter room begin a sweep for any breaches we might be able to beam through.”

With a nod of assent, Tuvok left sickbay.

“Kes can tell you where to go,” Neelix told Janeway, “but now that she's free, we're leaving this system together.”

“Neelix,” Kes objected, “these people helped to rescue me. It would be wrong not to help them now.”

With a resigned sigh, Neelix lowered his head.

Looking at Janeway, Kes promised. “I’ll help you find your people, Captain.”

* * *

As we searched the Ocampa settlement, we observed that the energy pulses from the Caretaker's array were steadily increasing. At their fastest, there were about three pulses coming at the planet per second. Then, inexplicably, they stopped. _Voyager_ reported to Captain Janeway that the array was realigning its position, but they were unsure why until a weapon charge slammed into the surface of the planet, shaking the entire settlement.

Evidently, the Caretaker had given the Ocampan people enough of an energy surplus to last them for several more years. Then, he moved to seal the conduits. With that information, Tuvok deduced the motive behind all of the Caretaker’s actions.

He was dying.

When Kes returned from the clinic reporting that our people hadn't been seen in several hours, Janeway considered their whereabouts. "If they were trying to get to the surface, how would they go?"

"Probably the same way I did," Kes suggested. "Up one of the ancient tunnels."

Janeway turned to the rest of our team. "Mister Paris, you and Neelix go with her and check the tunnels. We need to talk to every doctor and nurse at this hospital, see what they can tell about Torres and Kim."

Chakotay glanced at me. "Talia, I want you to go with them." When I turned to follow Kes, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to himself, crushing my mouth with a desperate kiss before dragging his lips so close to my ear that even Tuvok wouldn't hear him. "Watch your back," he whispered, "and be ready to run."

Feigning indifference towards the public setting of Chakotay's affections, I made a soft moan in the back of my throat and murmured, "You, too, Tay." With one final squeeze, we broke apart, casting worried glances at each other as we went our separate ways.

"So," Tom observed after we had left the main hall, "you and Chakotay, huh?"

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, offering him a knowing smile. Even after all the time we'd spent apart, I could still see right through the devil-may-care persona he wore. "It's really good to see you again, Tommy," I told him earnestly.

He returned the squeeze with a guilty smile. "You, too, Tal."

* * *

In the cavern leading up to the tunnels, Tom took out his tricorder. "They're in this one," he said, pointing to a metal staircase on our right. I took off up the stairs as he commed Captain Janeway to report that we had found them.

"Call for transport when you have them, Paris," she said. "We'll meet you on the ship."

We had made it to the sixth landing when Tom's combadge chirped again.

"The transporters aren't working," Janeway informed him. "You're going to have to find a breach in the security barrier when you get to the top. We're a few minutes behind you."

I had paused on one landing to glance up ahead when I saw them, resting on another landing some flights up. "B'Elanna!" I called into the cavern towards the exhausted pair. 

The Caretaker's weapon continued to slam into the surface of the planet, making the stairways shake and loosening rocks all around us; still, Tom, Kes, and I maintained our hurried pace until we reached them. Stepping past Tom's young friend— who I heard my friend call “Harry”— I grabbed B'Elanna and secured her arm over my shoulders.

Behind me, I could hear Tom and Harry bantering. "Took you long enough," Harry groused.

Tom grunted as he took Harry's weight. "How could I let down the only friend I've got?"

"Friend?" Harry echoed with strained sarcasm. "What makes you think I'm your friend?"

B'Elanna glanced around nervously as small rocks continued to shake loose and fall throughout the cavern. "What are the odds of this whole thing coming down and trapping us in here?"

"Don't worry," Kes reassured her. "I know we can get through the barrier."

At the top of the stairs was a tunnel just large enough for two people to fit side-by-side. Several yards from the mouth of the tunnel, I saw the barrier— a golden, shimmering force field of some kind that covered most of the tunnel.

"Don't touch the barrier," Kes warned as she pressed her back tightly against the rock wall of the tunnel and carefully maneuvered past it. From the other side, she helped me get B'Elanna through the opening before I took my turn.

Once everyone was past the barrier, we followed the tunnel until it reached the top. Tom and Neelix took out their phasers and blasted a hole in the ceiling of the tunnel, allowing the sunlight to flood the corridor. We climbed out onto the planet's dead surface, and Tom tapped his combadge. " _Voyager_ , can you get a lock on us now?"

"Affirmative," came the response. "But I'm reading only six signals."

"The others are—"

A charge that looked like a very large torpedo came screaming towards the ground from space, interrupting Tom's transmission. He shouted a warning at us, but I was already in motion, throwing myself on top of B'Elanna and covering my head with my hands. After the explosion, Tom and I looked back at the hole we had just come out of, which was belching out clouds of dust. Again, Tom activated his combadge. "Paris to Janeway." Silence. "Chakotay, Tuvok, do you read?"

No one responded.

I double-checked the security of my knife in its sheath, as I was in the habit of doing when I was about to walk into danger. "I'm going back for them, Tom."

He considered me for a moment, then turned to Neelix. "I'm going with her. Make sure these two get taken care of."

Neelix gave a resolute nod. "You can count on me, sir."

Tom tapped his combadge. "Voyager, prepare to transport everyone in this group except for me and Talia."

"Acknowledged."

"Energize."

After they dematerialized, I dropped down into the tunnel and made my way back to the stairs as fast as I could go. Tom followed close behind, but I wasn't paying much attention to him. _Please, be okay_ , I willed Chakotay. _I'm coming for you. Just, please, be okay_. I spotted Captain Janeway's tight brown bun as I rounded the second landing. "They're here, Tom!"

She was on the next landing kneeling beside Tuvok, who looked dazed. Chakotay was sitting on the stairs just behind them, which had broken loose from the landing and were swaying precariously. He was gripping the railing so tight his knuckles were white, and his face was contorted with pain.

Janeway looked up as I approached. "Help me with Tuvok!"

Tom came up behind me and grasped my shoulder. "I'll get Chakotay, Tal." I looked at him, and for a split second, I had the urge to shove him back and go after Chakotay myself. But, I recognized the look in those earnest blue eyes— a promise.

I nodded to him, then knelt down to pick up Tuvok and made the grueling ascent back to the surface.

* * *

While the EMH patched everyone up in sickbay, _Voyager_ made her way back to the Caretaker’s array with our raider, the _Valjean_ , following close behind. When we arrived just after the Kazon-Ogla, Janeway allowed Chakotay, B’Elanna, and I to return to our ship.

Being a highly territorial species, Maje Jabin took it as an act of aggression when Captain Janeway and Tuvok beamed onto the array in order to convince the Caretaker to send us home. Initially, the Ogla's decision to open fire on _Voyager_ seemed utterly vain; between our ship and Starfleet, we could easily defend the array against their small spacecrafts. Within minutes, however, a third Kazon vessel arrived, which was more powerful than both of our ships combined. 

We watched in despair as the Ogla assaulted _Voyager_.

"Their weapons array has been hit," Chakotay said. "They're in trouble."

"Neither of us has enough fire power to stop that ship!" B'Elanna exclaimed.

Two options came to mind. Abandon _Voyager_ and live the rest of our lives alone in the Delta Quadrant, or— 

"We can ram it.”

Chakotay and B’Elanna gaped at me.

“We'll be in Starfleet custody, but at least we'll be alive and back in the Alpha Quadrant."

"Their structural integrity is weakest around their weapons arrays," B'Elanna observed. "If you build up enough speed, you could disable them."

"Good idea," I told her. "This will work. The only problem is, our guidance system is down. I'll have to pilot it manually."

Chakotay shook his head. "No. I'll do it. You two get the crew ready to beam to _Voyager_."

I grabbed Chakotay's hands and met his eyes. "Tay, you know I'm the better pilot. Let me do this."

He considered me for a moment, then nodded his assent. "I'll grab your things." Tipping my chin upward, he slanted his lips over mine, kissing me long and deep. "See you in a bit," he murmured before following B'Elanna into the aft section.

Swiveling my chair back towards the con, I opened a communication channel to our unlikely allies. " _Voyager_ , I’m sending the crew over to you. Keep a lock on me, but wait for my mark. I'll take care of the Kazon."

Tom’s friend, Harry, answered my hail. "Acknowledged.”

It wasn't easy living our entire lives out of duffle bags, constantly moving between multiple bases and ships. But, at times, it meant we didn't lose the precious few possessions we had.

Within two minutes, the crew was ready to transport to _Voyager_ , so I reopened the com channel and dropped the shields. "Eelo to _Voyager_. The crew is ready for beam out."

"Acknowledged," Harry repeated.

With that, I was alone on the old rust bucket for the last time.

"Standing by to transport on your mark, Eelo," Harry informed me.

"Acknowledged." I gave the console one last affectionate rub. _Ironic how things turn out, isn't it, old girl?_ I brought the vessel about, giving myself enough space to build up momentum, and aimed her directly at the Kazon's starboard weapons array.

Over the com channel, I could hear the chatter on _Voyager's_ bridge as I closed in on the Kazon ship. "I have a lock on her, but she's getting too close," Harry warned.

"She'll hold," Tom insisted, as confident in my abilities as he was in his own.

It was right about that time when the Kazon noticed what I was doing, because they stopped targeting _Voyager_ and began firing on me. I was so close, but with my shields down, it would only take a few volleys to tear me apart. One of the shots took out my starboard nacelle, causing an explosion in the stern of the ship and throwing me violently off-course.

"You're breaking up, Tal," came Tom’s voice over the com.

"Wait," I insisted, straining to steer the _Valjean_ back towards her target. The cockpit still had containment, and I had five hundred meters yet to go.

Four hundred.

Three hundred.

Two hundred.

Back on course and close enough to see into the windows of the Kazon vessel, I offered a silent prayer of gratitude to the rebuilt raider that had carried us so far. Then, I shouted, " _Mark!_ "

In the space of a heartbeat, I materialized on the transporter pad. Chakotay was at my side in an instant, kissing me so hard that I couldn't breathe and only pulling away when Tom's worried voice sounded over the com.

"Transporter room two, do you have her?"

Chakotay cupped my face in his hands. "She's here, Paris."

"Nice flying, Tal," Tom commended. "You took out their entire weapons system, inertial dampers, among other things. They won't be bothering us anymore."

* * *

By the time we stepped off of the turbolift and onto the bridge, the Kazon ship had collided with the array, ripping off one of its central arms. Minutes later, Captain Janeway and Tuvok returned.

Janeway strode quickly to her command seat. "Mister Tuvok, ready the tricobalt devices."

"Aye, Captain."

"Open a channel to the Kazon."

Harry carried out her order, and Maje Jabin appeared on the viewscreen. "Be advised, Captain," he threatened, "I have called for additional ships."

"I'm calling to warn you to move your vessels to a safe distance," Janeway informed him. "I intend to destroy the array."

B'Elanna, Chakotay and I all looked at each other while the Maje protested. "You can't do that!" he shouted.

"I can and I will," she snapped before cutting the transmission. She positioned herself behind the con and ordered Tom to back Voyager away.

B'Elanna looked incredulously from Chakotay to me; when we said nothing, she huffed and turned to the captain. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "That array is the only way we have to get back home!"

Janeway wouldn't back down. "I'm aware everyone has families and loved ones at homes they want to get back to," she growled. "So do I. But I'm not willing to trade the lives of the Ocampa for our convenience. We'll have to find another way home." At that, she turned on her heel and walked back to her seat.

"What other way home is there?" B'Elanna raged, moving to confront Janeway until Chakotay grabbed her shoulder and stopped her. She spun around to face him. "Who is she to be making these decisions for all of us?"

"She's the captain," he answered simply.

With the tricobalt devices ready, and _Voyager_ positioned at a safe distance, Janeway issued the order to fire. Two blue charges shot out and slammed into the array, destroying it completely.

Immediately Maje Jabin hailed, glaring daggers at the captain and growling, "you have made an enemy today." The transmission was abruptly cut off, and the Kazon ships withdrew.

We were alone in the Delta Quadrant.


	5. Charybdis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Janeway proposes that Chakotay and his crew of Maquis rebels be integrated into her Starfleet crew. Talia and Chakotay's relationship suffers from the strain of grief and change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 1x03 Parallax

The first night aboard _Voyager_ was difficult, to say the least.

After the Kazon withdrew from the area, Captain Janeway called Chakotay, Tuvok, and me into the briefing room to discuss our situation; meanwhile, the rest of our renegade crew were escorted to the mess hall under the watchful eye of Tuvok's security team.

"Please," Janeway invited, gesturing towards a long table flanked by eight chairs. "Have a seat." She sat at the head of the table while the rest of us took seats on either side. She rested her chin on her hand, sizing Chakotay and me both with a look. Bringing both hands to rest on the table before her, she folded them and lifted her chin. "Well, Mister Chakotay, Miss Eelo, it seems we have a unique problem. I was sent into the Badlands with orders to apprehend you and your crew and to take you all into Starfleet custody. But seventy-five years is a long time to spend in our brig, and given the circumstances, I'm not sure we can afford to let the Maquis personnel go to waste."

"Are you suggesting putting us to work here?" Chakotay asked.

"All three of you have spent time in both Starfleet and the Maquis," Janeway observed. "Do you think it would be possible to integrate your crew with mine?"

Tuvok gave me a pointed look across the table.

Chakotay's eyebrows went up. "You mean make them Starfleet?"

"Well, they would have to fall in line somewhere," Janeway stated. "We won't make it very far without a hierarchy."

"With all due respect, Captain, a lot of my people left Starfleet for good reasons. Even those who didn't come from Starfleet resent the Federation for its relationship with the Cardassian Union."

"But don't you agree that it would be preferable to seventy-five years in confinement?"

"I can't say for sure that everyone would."

Tuvok cut in. "Miss Eelo. Your psychological and diplomatic background affords you a unique perspective. Would you care to share any thoughts on the matter?"

All eyes turned to me. "Oh, okay," I stuttered. “I do think it's possible, but it depends on what jobs our crew is offered, and who we answer to."

"Well," Janeway explained, "tasks would depend on each crew member's knowledge and abilities, and they would report directly to whoever is the ranking officer of their department."

I fidgeted nervously. “Yes, of course. What I mean is, would any of our crew have authority here, or would that just be for the Starfleet officers?"

"What kind of authority are you looking for, Miss Eelo?"

I hesitated to answer. While Captain Janeway had given me a good impression, there was so much resentment between Starfleet and the Maquis. Fear sat like a weight on my tongue. I was too much in shock over everything that happened with the Caretaker to think clearly.

Thankfully, Tuvok spoke up for me. "Captain, allow me to point out that you do have the authority to issue provisional rankings, which would effectively confer the same authority upon the recipient as an approved rank."

"You think I should put them in senior positions, Tuvok?"

I took a breath, carried by Tuvok’s initiative. "If you're asking, do we think that our crew will put on Starfleet uniforms and sing ‘ _kum-by-ya_ ’ with your crew while scrubbing plasma manifolds for seventy-five years, then the answer is no. But, if you and your crew will give us the same respect as any Starfleet personnel would receive, then, maybe, there's a chance it could work."

"I think that's reasonable," Janeway said. "But you have other reservations?"

"Captain, you have to realize just how much deep-rooted resentment there is between Starfleet and Maquis— resentment that goes both ways. If the only people with any real power here are Starfleet, then the Maquis will never integrate, and it's going to be a mutiny waiting to happen. They need to see that they have a voice, too, one that is equally respected. They need someone with real power who understands the unique problems they face, and who can address those problems in a way that is fair to them without entirely trampling on Starfleet protocol. Otherwise, they'll never trust that you or your officers will treat them any differently than the rest of Starfleet has."

Janeway looked to Tuvok, who nodded his head; she then returned her gaze to me, steepling her fingers. "That sounds like a job for a counselor, no?"

I exhaled heavily. "Actually, I, uh, was thinking it would be best for everyone if you considered making Chakotay your first officer, rather than promoting Lieutenant Commander Tuvok." Chakotay's eyes widened at me, but I looked elsewhere. "I'm sorry, Tuvok. I just don't think they'll accept you as their executive officer very readily— not after what you have done.”

His expression remained passive. "There is no need to apologize, Miss Eelo. It is the most logical choice, given the circumstances."

Janeway's head swiveled towards Tuvok, her eyebrows jumping in surprise. "You think so?"

"Miss Eelo's analysis of the situation is sound, and Mister Chakotay is a qualified and able leader. I believe presenting a unified command in this way would be the best course of action for both crews. That is, of course, assuming Mister Chakotay would be willing to accept such a responsibility."

All eyes shifted to Chakotay, and he looked to me. I responded with a quirk of my mouth. He then turned back to the captain. "I'm willing if you are."

We sat in silence for a minute as Janeway considered the decision. Finally, she gave Chakotay a decisive nod. "Then it's agreed. We will integrate into one Starfleet crew. I will provisionally reinstate your former rank of commander, and commission you as _Voyager's_ first officer."

Turning her attention to me, she asked, "What about you, Miss Eelo? How would you feel about resuming your previous commission with Starfleet? We could certainly use a qualified counselor on board."

I smiled. "I would be honored, Captain."

"Well, in that case, I'll be making an entry into the ship's database that on this day I granted field commissions to Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Eelo Talia, with all of the rights, privileges, and responsibilities pertaining thereto." Smiling, she stood and extended her hand to Chakotay, then to me. "Congratulations. Welcome back to Starfleet."

"Thank you, Captain," Chakotay said wearily. "I'll inform my crew."

* * *

Our Maquis comrades were less enthusiastic about the arrangement.

"You want us to be Starfleet?" B'Elanna asked, her face full of indignation. "Are you serious?"

"Would you rather sit in the brig for seventy-five years?" Chakotay bit back.

Her lip curled into a snarl. She crossed her arms and let out a huff of air.

Seska rested both hands on her hips as she examined Chakotay and me, her green eyes glittering with spite. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised at _Eelo'chali_ being so eager to get back into uniform, but I never thought I'd see you throw your support behind Starfleet again, Chakotay."

My eyes narrowed at the jab.

"But, I guess it's hard to say no to the woman you're sleeping with, isn't it? I just wish there was a way to tell the General."

"Watch it, Seska," Chakotay growled. My fists clenched at my sides.

"I wonder what would hurt more— thinking her _tahl’ral_ is dead, or knowing how little it took to convince her own daughter to betray the cause."

"Quiet!" Chakotay roared, and several of our crewmen jumped.

My nostrils flared, but I knew exactly what she was doing. I refused to rise to the bait. Taking a breath to swallow the rage, I released my clenched fists. "Listen, I know it's not ideal, but this is the way it has to be now. The choice is still yours. You can put on a uniform and take a job on _Voyager_ , or you can rot in confinement. I made my choice. Now you need to make yours."

"You will all be assigned to crew quarters," Chakotay informed them, "but unless you decide to integrate into the crew, you will be confined to your quarters indefinitely. These officers," he gestured to the security team behind us, "will escort you to your new quarters. I want your decisions by 0800 tomorrow." He paused to let that sink in before barking out a stern, "Dismissed!"

* * *

Most of Janeway’s senior officers had been killed during _Voyager’s_ quick and violent trip to the Delta Quadrant— first officer, chief of operations, chief flight controller, chief engineer, and chief medical officer. All were caught trying to ensure the safety of either their subordinates or the ship itself and were unable to brace for the impact in time. Most of their quarters remained empty until their things could be boxed and stored, and replacements were chosen for their positions. For the time being, our crew was settled into spare quarters;  _Voyager_ had not been fully staffed when she left Deep Space Nine, meaning there was a fair amount of space to fill on the mid-sized starship.

In the first officer’s quarters, Chakotay massaged my shoulders as I sat in a low-backed chair facing his private viewport. My arms looped around my knees, holding them tightly to my chest. In my hands I held the knife that was usually concealed under my vest, fingers mindlessly tracing the scratches and designs etched into the old hilt and my thumb circling the strange green gem inlaid just above the guard. Chakotay and I had hardly spoken since we left the meeting with our crew, gagged by the weariness that was finally catching up to us. It was a dramatic shift from the bruising kisses we had shared only hours before.

To leave my family behind on Earth and relocate to Bajor was one thing, but it lacked the permanence of being stranded on the other side of the galaxy. Barring any sort of tragic demise, I had a good chance of still being alive in seventy-five years, but many of the crew would not be. Neither would most of my family. My grandmother would light a candle for me at every mass and die long before her prayer was answered. My niece and nephew would grow up with only photographs and vague memories of me. My parents would grow old and die believing that they had outlived me.

Who could I share that with? Chakotay's only family was his sister. B'Elanna's family was the Maquis. Tom was estranged from his family. Tuvok experienced emotions so differently from other humanoids that he wouldn't be able to sympathize with mine.

I was supposed to be the one to help both crews carry their losses, but who could help me carry mine?

My eyes began to well over with tears as the gravity of my loss settled over me like a thick cloak that threatened to swallow me whole. I tried not to show this sudden onset of grief, but my body trembled, betraying me.

Chakotay's hands slid from my shoulders and circled around me, cocooning me in his strength. He pressed a kiss into my hair and whispered simply, "I'm so sorry."

With those words, the locked box inside broke open, and I wept.

* * *

Even though _Voyager_ had not been assigned a counselor for the mission, she was built with a counseling office located just around the corner from sickbay on deck five. I spent most of the next two days working with Tom, and sometimes Harry, who volunteered to help me move furniture and program the systems. After the last of the furniture and decorations were arranged, Tom and I stood back and examined our work with pride.

In spite of all the stress and sadness that had been weighing me down lately, I couldn't help but smile. Finally, _finally_ , I could do what I had wanted to do since I was seventeen. This time, I could help people the way I wanted to, without causing death and destruction. I turned to my dear friend and threw my arms around his neck. "Thank you so much."

He hesitantly squeezed me back. "Hey, don't mention it. It was no trouble." When I released him, he glanced at me nervously. "Look, Tal, I— uh— I'm really sorry that I was helping Captain Janeway find you guys. I know I'd be pretty pissed if you had done something like that to me."

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Tom, I understand, and I forgive you. I know it wasn't about me, okay? Don't beat yourself up about it."

He nodded.

"Besides," I continued, "it's selfish to say, but I'm glad you're here. You're the closest thing to family that I have now."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he agreed.

Throughout secondary school and our years at Starfleet Academy, Tom and I had been inseparable. He spent almost as much time at my house as I did during those years, feeling more at ease with my family than with his own. Even after he was commissioned and I began graduate school, we had always been the type of friends who could just pick up where we had left off, no matter how long we'd been apart.

On this particular day, he stood there in my counseling office and looked right through me. "How are you, Tal? Really?"

Tears pricked at my eyes. I feared that if I didn't voice how I felt soon, I would drown in my grief. "Tom, I miss them so much. I'm worried about Marnah, with no idea what happened to me and no safe way to talk to the rest of the family. The last time I saw Daddy was when I left for Bajor almost two years ago. It's been even longer since I saw Jay and Melissa and the kids; they were still on the _Washington_ when I left. Deb was playing a gig in Nashville the night before my transport, so I didn't even get to talk to her. And now—" I sobbed. "Now, they're all gone, and I'll never get to make things right for anyone."

He pulled me into his arms. "You haven't talked to anyone about this, have you?" When I shook my head against his chest, he sighed and squeezed me tighter.

I knew exactly what he was thinking. Why didn't I talk to Chakotay?

Ever since the Caretaker's array was destroyed, something had begun to shift between Chakotay and me. He did his best not to let on, but I could see that he was angry almost constantly. Everyone had their own ways of dealing with grief, and anger was his. It wasn't that I was afraid he'd lash out at me; he had never been anything but gentle and respectful in our private moments. Yet, something about the recent events had opened a canyon between us, and I wasn't sure how to bridge it. We still shared a bed, but we had both stopped sharing anything else.

Tom didn't ask about my relationship with Chakotay, and I didn't tell him. Instead, he simply held me as I cried. After a few minutes, when I had quieted down, he invited me to have dinner with him and Harry in the mess hall. I nodded, and smiled.

* * *

It didn't take long for things to come to blows between B'Elanna and the highest-ranking Starfleet engineer.

I was in my office studying the psychological records of _Voyager's_ crew when Lieutenant Commander Tuvok asked me to meet him in sickbay. As I arrived, Lieutenant Joe Carey was being helped onto a biobed by a junior engineer, blood streaming from his nose, while the EMH scanned him with a medical tricorder. Chakotay paced off to the side, clearly agitated.

I walked over to Chakotay and asked him what happened. "They had an argument," he replied, "and things got a little out of control."

Joe sat up on the biobed, ignoring protests from the EMH. "She's not just out of control; she's out of her mind!"

Tuvok entered and joined me by the surgical bay. "If you will explain what happened, Lieutenant," he requested.

"She hit me is what happened!"

The EMH reported his results. "Your nose is broken in three places. I'll need to reset the ethmoid fossa. Try not to move."

Joe continued recounting the incident to Tuvok while I took notes on the PADD I had brought from my office. "We were having a disagreement about the power grid. She wanted to realign the lateral plasma conduit. I told her that would cause an overload. As usual, she wouldn't listen. So I told her to step aside and let me handle it. She pushed me away from the console. I pushed back. Next thing I knew, I was lying on the deck with blood pouring down my face."

"Did she say anything after she hit you?" I asked.

"She said, 'Sorry. Maybe you should go to sickbay.'"

"At least she gave you some good advice," quipped the doctor, impatiently trying to hold Joe still so he could repair the damage.

"Don't worry, Lieutenant," Chakotay told him. "I'll take care of this."

"You keep that woman out of my engine room and everything will be fine!"

Chakotay and Tuvok turned to leave, but I motioned them aside. "I'm going to need to speak with B'Elanna, as well."

"I'll take care of it," Chakotay reiterated gruffly.

"I know you will, but I still need to evaluate her."

He looked at me as if I was insane. "A psychological evaluation? Over an argument?"

"This was not merely an argument, Commander" Tuvok interjected. "Performing a psychological evaluation of both officers involved in an assault is Lieutenant Eelo's duty as the ship's counselor."

"It's just procedure, Tay," I reassured him.

He snorted. "This is ridiculous."

"I've already added her to my schedule," I said firmly, ignoring his protest. "I just need you to have her report to my office at 1400 hours."

For the first time, Chakotay was powerless to overrule my authority. "Fine," he relented angrily. With that, he and Tuvok walked out the door.

* * *

As much as I tried not to, I spent all morning stewing on my confrontation with Chakotay. That afternoon, I went to the mess hall for a break and saw him sitting alone by one of the large windows in the back. By that point, I was livid. I stormed over to him and slipped into the seat across from him, leaning in and trying to keep my voice low. "What the hell is your problem with me lately?"

He didn't even look up from the PADD in his hands. "Hello to you, too."

"The thing with B'Elanna—“

"You could have let me handle it."

"I don't get it," I remarked. "You tell us we need to act like Starfleet officers now, but then you get mad at me for following procedure. So which is it?"

"You know which."

"No, I really don't anymore."

"We're Starfleet now."

"But only if it's convenient for you, right?"

His jaw tensed. "That's ridiculous."

"No, it's you not being able to deal with the fact that you are not the one in authority here anymore."

He snorted. "I don't have any problems serving under Captian Janeway."

"I'm not talking about her. I'm talking about Starfleet regulations."

Finally he looked at me, slapping the PADD on the tabletop and mirroring my pose. "Damnit, Talia! Am I really going to have this argument with you, too? I thought you of all people would understand the need to cut our crew some slack. Putting Maquis in uniform doesn't automatically make them Starfleet. Though, apparently, it did for you."

I recoiled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that the moment you put on that blue-striped jacket and walked into your pretty little office, you changed."

My jaw dropped. "So now you're going to punish me for enjoying my job? That's completely unfair!"

"What's not fair is the way no one seems to get that these people need time to adjust to a new way of doing things. I'm trying as hard as I can to look out for them; I thought you would, too."

"That is exactly what I'm doing! It's an evaluation, not a reprimand. I'm a counselor; I'm here to help. You just don't get to know what I'm doing for our people anymore because I'm governed by procedures that supersede your authority."

"How convenient for you."

I shook my head in utter disbelief. How had I been so wrong about this man? "Wow. You just won't stop trying to pin this on me and my job, will you? You have yourself convinced that my job is getting in the way of progress. But, the real problem is that you can't stand to relinquish any kind of control because you think you have the answers for everything."

Chakotay slammed his hands on the table. "Stop trying to psychoanalyze me, goddamnit! Who are you? What happened to the strong, rational, no-bullshit, sexy pilot I knew? Because I keep looking for that woman, but I just don't recognize you anymore."

Instantly, the raging fire in my belly transformed into a blade of ice that sliced right through me. I looked at him mournfully. "Then you never really saw me." With that, I stood and silently walked away.

* * *

For the next week, I threw myself into my work.

I made assessment reports of both Joe and B'Elanna and turned them in to Captain Janeway. When she asked for my thoughts on the matter of who should be the chief engineer— evidently, Chakotay had been campaigning for B’Elanna to get the job even though Joe had seniority— I tried to walk the line between discretion and honesty. I told her that, while I didn't know who was the more skilled engineer, Janeway herself seemed to be drawn to fixer-upper types like B'Elanna or Tom. I also expressed my belief that, were she given the chance, B'Elanna had the potential for real greatness, in spite of the chip on her shoulder. In the end, I told her, she needed to trust her gut.

Janeway gave B'Elanna the position, along with a promotion to Senior Chief Petty Officer. 

Initially, most of the crew were hesitant to see me. The Maquis, like Chakotay, were not very trusting of counselors. The Starfleet crew, on the other hand, didn't trust a Maquis rebel. However, within a few days, I started to fill my schedule with people from both crews who were struggling to cope with their grief. As ironic as it may have seemed, focusing my energy on their grief left me little energy to think about my own. Instead, I compartmentalized it like only the best Maquis could do.

As I adjusted to my new life, I also found myself spending any free time I had in the company of Tom and Harry. One night, Tom came to me and asked me to look at a new holoprogram he had made that simulated the French bar, Chez Sandrine's, which had been our favorite stomping grounds during our semester in Marseille.

By the end of the next day, we could already tell that Sandrine’s was going to become the crew's favorite place to relax. Chakotay, who wasn't generally interested in simulated recreation, came to play pool with us, which was thankfully less awkward than Tom and I thought it would be. Harry even convinced Captain Janeway to visit, and she sharked the boys in her first game.

Slowly, but surely, all of us adjusted to our new life together in the abyss of unknown space as we began to truly become one crew. The monster had swallowed us whole, but we refused to sink. The hopelessness that had surrounded so many of us in our earliest days of the journey faded away as we found solace and strength in each other. Maybe, just maybe, we could accomplish the impossible and find our way out of the belly of the beast.


	6. Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While surveying a planetoid for resources, Neelix encounters an unknown alien with an odd weapon that removes his lungs from inside of his body. Talia teaches the EMH that a patient's psychological health is just as important as their physical health.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 1x05 Phage

Personal Log, Lieutenant Eelo Talia: Stardate 48532.4

It's been rewarding to finally start gaining the trust of the Starfleet officers on board. Last week, I only had a handful of intrepid crew scheduling therapy sessions with me, but this week's schedule is already full. If my patient load keeps growing like this, I'll have to work my off-days just to keep up. Still, I look forward to my work.

On top of the growing patient load, I'm also learning how to carry out the responsibilities of a Chief Science Officer now that I am the most senior science officer on board. This is incredibly unprecedented. Counselors are never CSOs; we're specialists in a soft science that's part of the medical division, so I shouldn't even be eligible. Evidently, Captain Janeway has also listed me in the crew roster as _Voyager's_ xenolinguist. While that does technically qualify me for the position, CSOs are supposed to have a broad base of hard scientific knowledge. I honestly don't know how to review half of these reports. I have no trouble understanding anthropology and stellar cartography, but what the hell am I supposed to do with things like astrophysics or quantum mechanics?

Today, the offending lab will be geology. As I record this, _Voyager_ is on her way to a planetoid to drill for dilithium, and all the data our away team collects will be sent to the geology lab, where two brilliant scientists will write an analysis that I have to review for Captain Janeway. Sounds like fun, right? Still, I need to learn to speak their language. Like it or not, this is part of the job now, and I never do a job half-assed. Besides, being the CSO means that I'll be putting in time on the bridge, and I do not want to sound like an idiot up there. The captain has faith that I'll do well; I only hope I don't let her down.

* * *

The morning actually turned out to be quite an interesting one. I went to the mess hall to meet Tom and Harry for breakfast, where we found that Neelix had knocked out the wall of replicators between mess and Captain Janeway's private dining room. In its place, he had built a galley, where he was animatedly making breakfast for the crew. We all hoped desperately that Janeway would come by before we had to leave for duty shifts so we could see her reaction, but we had no such luck.

Later that morning, I was doing my absolute best not to fall asleep over a preliminary geological analysis when Tom dropped off an alarming report from sickbay; an unknown alien had attacked Neelix on the planetoid and stolen his lungs right out of his body. Evidently, he and the EMH had spent the past half hour designing holographic lungs to keep him alive, and meanwhile Janeway was tracking down the alien who took his real lungs. The lungs were functioning as designed, though they required Neelix to stay in an isotropic restraint to prevent movement. The doctor had requested that I be present when he woke Neelix, so I grabbed a blank PADD and followed Tom back to sickbay.

After bringing Neelix out of his coma, the doctor explained the procedure to his patient.

"Holographic lungs?" Neelix asked, surprised.

"Yes, and they're working perfectly, if I do say so myself," the EMH gloated.

Neelix's brow furrowed. "How long can I live like this?"

"I don't know. This is an unprecedented medical procedure. We will be closely monitoring your condition."

"When do I get out of this restraint?"

"Unless Captain Janeway is successful in retrieving your original lungs, you'll have to stay in the isotropic restraint indefinitely."

Neelix paled. "Indefinitely? You mean I could be in here the rest of my life?"

"But we're trying to find the aliens that did this to you," Kes reassured him. "The captain is doing everything she can."

"You won't be in here for the rest of your life, Neelix," I told him. "If we can't get your lungs back, then we'll find another option. This is only temporary."

"Well," Neelix said, unconvinced by our reassurances, "if I'm going to be in here a while, now's as good a time as any to tell you. Your ceiling is hideous. Something with a bit of color would help. And could you dim the lights a little?"

"I'm a doctor, Mister Neelix, not a decorator," the EMH deadpanned before retreating to his office.

Over the com, Janeway summoned Tom to the bridge. Putting down the medical tricorder in his hand, he turned to Kes. "You know where I am if you need me."

She smiled appreciatively. "Thanks for everything."

As soon as Tom was out the door, Neelix's mood changed from blue to green. "Oh, fine," he grumbled bitterly. "I have a little accident, I lose a pair of lungs, and the next thing I know Paris is swooping in like a Rectillian vulture."

Kes looked down at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you hear the way that he said that? 'I'll be on the bridge if you need me.' If _you_ need me. You heard it, didn't you, Counselor?"

"Tom and I spent four years at the academy bar-hopping and picking up partners together. He's a player, for sure; but, I promise you, Neelix, that wasn't a pick-up."

It wasn’t exactly a lie. Tom hadn’t meant to be flirtatious; he was genuinely trying to be helpful. But, I did get the sense that my old friend may be developing a crush on Kes.

"If you say so," Neelix groused skeptically. "Why doesn't he just pull the plug on the holographic emitter and get it over with? Get me out of the way so he can have you all to himself."

Kes tried to reason with him. "Neelix, you're over-reacting. Tom's been very supportive."

"Ah, so it's Tom now, is it?"

I cleared my throat nervously. "I'm just going to have a word with the doctor." With that, I walked into the EMH's office, pressing my forehead against the cool metal frame of his doorway and sighing heavily.

"Couples therapy would seem to be your area, Lieutenant," he muttered, "not mine. Is there a reason you're in my office?"

"This is bad," I groaned. "This is very bad."

"Clearly."

I stepped up to his desk. "No, Doctor, you don't understand. His argument with Kes is just a way for him to project his fear and frustration outward, and it's only going to get worse from here."

His brow furrowed. "What could he possibly be afraid of? He's doing perfectly fine now, thanks to my work."

"Confinement, Doctor. People do not respond well to confinement. It is one of the most common phobias among almost every humanoid species. Being confined for long periods of time can cause severe psychological trauma, and you just told him that he could be stuck inside a tube for the rest of his life!"

"Well, it is a very real possibility. Would you rather I lie to my patient?"

"I'd rather you realize that the way you interact with your patients is just as much medicine or poison as the chemicals you fill your hyposprays with."

"I'm sorry, but my programming doesn't include any texts on kissing boo-boos. Perhaps you should file a complaint with my creator, Dr. Lewis Zimmerman. Oh wait, that's right... you're stuck with me!"

I snorted. "Christ, Doctor, you're just as much of a tool as Zimmerman is. Unfortunately, you don't have the luxury of locking yourself away in a lab to rot, because we need you. So, maybe you should ask B'Elanna to delete the cynical asshole subroutine and replace it with one for being a sensitive healthcare practitioner."

The EMH paused for a moment before speaking, his tone entirely changed. "You know Dr. Zimmerman?"

Before I had a chance to answer, Neelix's voice filtered in through the doorway, insisting to Kes that she should let him die. I gave the doctor a pointed look, so he brushed past me and made for the surgical bay, his brief moment of curiosity cut short. "Visiting hours are over," he announced. "He needs rest."

I walked over to Kes and put my hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you come to my office for a bit?"

"Okay," she agreed, before turning back to Neelix. "I'll see you later." She bent down to kiss him, then followed me out of sickbay.

* * *

"I know he's just saying that because he's afraid," Kes explained as she sat on the couch in my office. "He's always been able to take care of himself before now. He's a very proud man."

"That's very perceptive, Kes," I observed, taking the wingback chair across from her. "Does it bother you when he pushes you away like that?"

"It does a little, but I understand why he does it. It won't change anything. I still love him, and I won't give up on him."

"Are you worried about what might happen?"

She shook her head. "I know that Captain Janeway and the doctor won't give up until they've found a way for him to get his old life back."

"Why do you think you're so confident in him making a full recovery?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I guess it's just a feeling."

"As in a hunch, or perhaps something connected to your telepathy?"

"It's more than just a hunch. I feel like it's something I know, but I don't know how I know it. It could be from the mental abilities that my people used to have. All I know is that I feel very sure that Neelix is going to be okay."

"Is there anything you're worried about right now?"

She leaned forward in her seat. "I'm worried about his emotional state. He's much more anxious than I've ever seen him before. I worry that he'll make this harder for himself, or that he'll suffer psychologically. Do you think that's possible?"

I nodded. "It is, and I made the same observation to the EMH just before we left sickbay. He'll be performing a neurological scan to monitor Neelix's brain activity, and I'll be writing up a full report for the doctor with specific psychological concerns to consider as he analyzes the scan. That will help us come up with a plan for how to approach Neelix's psychological health, so we can hopefully prevent any long-term negative effects."

"Thank you, Talia. I know you're doing everything you can, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it."

"You and Neelix are an important part of this crew," I told her. "We'll do whatever it takes to get him back on his feet."

"I know you will."

 _She would make a great counselor_ , I thought as she walked out of my office.

* * *

After eating a very late lunch in the mess hall, I decided to drop by sickbay to hear what the EMH had to say about my psychological analysis of Neelix. Just as the turbolift started to move, the com chirped. "Doctor to Lieutenant Eelo."

I tapped my combadge. "Go ahead."

"Please report to sickbay right away."

"Acknowledged."

* * *

"I'm the patient, I know what my rights are," Neelix was shouting as I walked in. "I want to be released from this restraint immediately. _Immediately_!"

"Neelix?" I called out calmly as I approached his bedside.

His voice returned to a normal register. "Counselor?"

I pulled up a chair and sat so that I was eye level with him. "Please, just call me Talia. Why don't you tell me what's going on?"

"I want the doctor to let me out," he demanded, clearly on the verge of having a panic attack.

The EMH opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to stop him. "Doctor, if you'll excuse us, please."

"My pleasure," he responded, his voice darkened by frustration.

Once he had disappeared into his office, I turned back to Neelix. "Tell me, Neelix. Why do you feel the need to leave your restraint?"

"It's just, I'm feeling, well, trapped. And alone. I can't stand it. And I know that if I move, I'll die, but I just... can't... lay here anymore!"

"Kes tells me you've been saying that you wish you were dead. Can you tell me why you feel this way?"

"Well, I-I can't really do anything, so I feel like I might as well be dead. But I'm not, so it's even worse, because I have to lie here awake while I'm, well, almost dead. And everyone else is walking around with things to do, living their lives, but I can't. I might never do anything again."

I nodded. "How does it make you feel to think about the possibility that you might be in this restraint for the rest of your life?"

"Terrified. Angry. And, guilty."

"Why do you feel guilty, Neelix?"

"Because Kes shouldn't have to spend her whole life dealing with me like this. No one should. What good is it to be the reason she won't live her life if I'll never get to do anything with her? It seems to me that it's better for me to go ahead and die. And then I can't hold her back anymore."

"So you feel that you're a restraint on her?"

"Yes, that's exactly how I feel."

"And you love her, so that's the last thing you want to be."

"That's right."

I paused for a moment before asking my next set of questions. "If the situation were reversed, and she had been the one who had to be in this tube with holographic lungs, what would you do?"

With every ounce of sincere, loving devotion, he replied, "I would _never_ leave her side."

"Would you feel like she was restraining you or holding you back from your life?"

His eyes widened, horrified at the suggestion. "No, of course not! She could never feel like a burden."

"Even if she had to stay like that for the rest of her life?"

"I wouldn't care. I'd visit her every day."

"But why?" I asked, mimicking his earlier assertion. "What good is it if she can't walk around and live your life with you? Don't you think you'd be happier if she just died and let you move on with your life?"

"No! Absolutely not! I don't care where we are or what we do, or if we don't do anything. Just being around her makes me happy."

I nodded again and came to my point. "Don't you think she feels the same way about you now?"

His brow furrowed as he thought about the conversation. "Well… yes… I suppose so."

I smiled and put my hand on the hard, smooth surface of Neelix's restraint. "So maybe you shouldn't give up on yourself so soon. I know she won't."

Neelix sighed and blinked slowly, absorbing my suggestion. "You're right, Counselor. Er, Talia. I guess, I just didn't think of it from her point of view, that's all."

"It's okay to feel like you do, Neelix. Anyone would in your situation. But I don't want you to stress like this. Kes loves you very much, and when you love someone, their life becomes far more precious to you then anything else. Don't worry about what you think she should or shouldn't do, because that's not going to change her mind. Just stay focused on getting through this, because I truly believe that it won't be permanent. Can you do that for me? For Kes?"

Neelix blinked. "Yes, I think I can."

I smiled. "Good. Now, if you promise to try getting some sleep, I'll do my work in here so you're not so lonely. Would you like that?"

"That would be very nice, Talia. Thank you."

"Lieutenant," came the EMH's voice from within his office, "a word, please?"

"I'll be right back, Neelix." I stood and made my way to his desk. "Yes, Doctor?"

"I thought you might be interested to know the results of a neurological scan I did of Mister Neelix after our conversation this morning." He turned his computer console around to face me, which displayed a digital image of Neelix's brain, as well as close-up views of synaptic activity and neurochemical levels in specific areas of concern.

I leaned in over his desk to study the images and let out a breath. "He's way low on serotonin, and his norepinephrine and cortisol levels are through the roof." I looked at the doctor. "This confirms my psychological analysis, then."

"Indeed," he said, turning the console back. "I've started him on a low dose SSRI, and I'll administer benzodiazepine as needed until his condition stabilizes. I have also accepted your recommendations for daily counseling sessions and extended visiting hours with Kes." He paused. "It seems you were right, Miss Eelo. I may not have caught it so soon if you hadn't told me what to look for."

In that moment, I was struck by the doctor's attitude. Perhaps he wasn't as much like Dr. Zimmerman as I had assumed. Or, perhaps, he had more ability for growth than holograms generally did. I smiled at him. "This is why I'm here, Doctor. I look at the psychological side so you can focus on the physiological. And you've done a goddamn good job. I doubt many flesh-and-blood doctors would have thought of holographic lungs."

"Hmm. Yes, an untested procedure that is proving to be a great deal of trouble."

"A procedure that saved his life, which is exactly what you are programmed to do. And you succeeded. All I ask is that you try to be more considerate of the importance of a patient's emotional health when you treat them. When you need to consult with an expert in that area, that's why my office is just around the corner."

He eyed me skeptically. "Very well, I'll keep that in mind." Then, the doctor returned to his work; yet, for some reason, I stayed where I was, considering him. He paused, then glanced at me irritatedly. "You may go now, Lieutenant."

I quirked my mouth slightly, then returned to the company of our patient.

* * *

Within a few hours, _Voyager_ was able to catch up with the aliens who had stolen Neelix's lungs. They called themselves Vidiians, and said that their people were suffering from a deadly disease called the phage that ate away at their bodily tissues. They survived by harvesting organs from the bodies of other species. Even though Neelix's lungs had already been implanted into one of the two men, they agreed to examine Neelix to see if their advanced medical technology could help him. Much to our surprise, they informed us that they would be able to use a donated lung from any one of us. Naturally, Kes volunteered one of hers.

The transplant was successful. Both patients made a full recovery, and Neelix responded very well to my counsel. Evidently, the doctor took notice of Kes' potential, as well; he was granted permission to train her as his assistant, which she eagerly accepted.

And Neelix was allowed to keep his kitchen.


	7. Conflict of Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia and Chakotay begin working on crew evaluations, but their relationship quickly comes into conflict with duty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episodes: VOY 01x10 Prime Factors, 01x11 State of Flux

Personal Log, Eelo Talia: Stardate 48650.3

For the past several days, the crew has been enjoying the hospitality of a planet called Sikaris, whose people offered us free shore leave. We dubbed it "Risa in the Delta Quadrant," because it is an absolute paradise where the people value pleasure, art, and stories above all else. I think Tom and I may have traumatized poor Harry, though. When the local women we were spending the day with took us to their nude beach, we stripped off our clothes and jumped right in. I've never seen him turn so red. He still can't look at me without blushing.

We're back on course for the Alpha Quadrant now, and I'm about to get started on my first big assignment— annual crew evaluations. Captain Janeway wants me to evaluate the former Maquis— including Tom— first, before I move on to the rest of the crew. This is going to be a very interesting experience, to say the least.

Since crew evaluations are a collaboration between a ship's counselor and first officer, I'll be working very closely with Chakotay. Both of us are quite practiced at keeping work and personal lives separate, but it may still make for an awkward time.

Our relationship has become so volatile lately. One day, we'll be counting down the seconds until shift’s end, so we can run back to my quarters or his. The next day, we'll be screaming at each other. In short, we’re a mess.

Chakotay will be the first of the group to do his assessment with me. Normally, I'd be obligated to refer him to a different counselor, but this isn't exactly a normal situation. Four months on the job and I’m already committing ethical treason.

Breathe, Talia. If Betazoids can do it, then so can I. I just need to think about the relationship like a Betazoid would.

Or, I could ask Captain Janeway to make me a pilot instead.

* * *

"So, any pathologies that I should be worried about?" Chakotay asked me curtly.

"No," I informed him. "No pathologies, but I'm not done yet. We still have the talk portion to get through."

He let out an irritated sigh. "Well, what can I tell you? My parents hugged me plenty as a child. I am confident in my own identity. My relationships here are going well." When I raised my eyebrows at him, he added, "mostly." Then, he shrugged. "What else would you like to know?"

"Why do you think you're so resistant to psychotherapy?"

"What does this have to do with my evaluation?"

"Just answer the question."

He crossed his arms. "Not to be rude, but it seems like a waste of time. I already have an animal guide to counsel me. Some people pray or meditate. Other people have friends that they feel more comfortable talking to. I don't see why it's necessary to force counselors on everyone when there are so many more natural ways of handling emotions."

I nodded. "That's fair."

Chakotay was taken aback. "Really?"

I smiled calmly, amused by his surprise. "Really. I pray, and I meditate; you know that. And, I have friends that I talk to. All of these are perfectly acceptable mechanisms for managing emotions."

He eyed me suspiciously, waiting for the catch. "You're not going to defend your position?"

"You haven't challenged it."

His brow furrowed. "Then why are we doing this? Just for the sake of procedure?"

I leaned slightly forward in my chair. "Let me ask you something. Why do you think Starfleet requires its personnel to undergo regular physicals?"

"To ensure the optimal health of its people. When all personnel are healthy, the ship's operations run more efficiently."

"Wouldn't you agree that emotional health is just as important to the ship's operating efficiency?"

"I guess you could say that."

"That's all this is, Chakotay; it's an emotional and psychological check-up. Now, tell me, how well do you think you're doing at your job here on _Voyager_?"

* * *

"Oh, I definitely think I've got things down here," Tom declared with assurance. "Don't get me wrong, I was pretty wound up with Starfleet when Captain Janeway came to see me at the penal colony, but that's all behind me now. There's no way they'll want to cut me loose when we get back. Not after this."

"So, if we got home today, would you want to go back to Starfleet?"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far."

"But you're more confident in your ability to be a productive member of society now?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm telling you, Tal, the worst is behind me. I've got you and Harry, a ship full of people who are lonely for company, and I get to pilot the Federation's most advanced starship through uncharted space. What more could I ask for?"

"Why don't you tell me, Tom? What else would you want if you could ask for it?"

* * *

"Well, it would be nice if the junior engineers weren't such complete fucking idiots,” B’Elanna groused. “I mean, how hard is it to realign a plasma coil? That's basic! What the hell are they even doing for four years at the academy?"

"How do you deal with it when they make mistakes on simple jobs?"

"It depends. I usually ask one of the other engineers to show them the right way to do it."

"Do you ever lose your temper at your personnel?"

She snorted. "Of course I lose my temper with them sometimes! You know how I am, and you wouldn't believe some of the idiotic things they do. But, I try not to let them bother me, and I'd like to think I'm getting better at it."

"Why do you think it's been difficult for you to adjust to this new way of doing things?"

* * *

Lon shook his head. “Oh no, you're mistaken, Talia. I'm not having any trouble at all. I feel no anger or bitterness towards any of them. They're only doing their job. And B'Elanna being the chief helps to balance things out between Starfleet and Maquis."

"So you think the personnel in engineering are coping well?"

"Absolutely. You have nothing to worry about there."

"Have you ever come into conflict with anyone else, even over little things?"

"Not once."

There had to be something to this guy. I had seen first-hand the rage he kept inside, only released in battle with Cardassians. "No latent feelings of anger towards anyone?"

He remained completely cool. "None at all."

"No violent impulses?"

"Do you worry about me, Little Eelo? You did your best to hide it, and you did what you had to do, but I knew you didn’t have the head for violence, not like your mother. Everyone saw what they wanted to see in you, but I saw the truth. You despised the Cardassians, but you never wanted them to die."

"That's very perceptive, Lon. I thought you said you never learned how to distinguish your telepathic sensory input from your other senses?"

"It's not something I felt from you. I could see it in your eyes."

That caught my attention. I wondered if his brain confused visual and empathetic sensory input. “Do you often get a strong sense of people by looking at them?"

* * *

"Sometimes, all I have to do is look at them, and I know they still don't trust us.” Seska’s green eyes narrowed at me— a sign that my affect was out of check. “Oh, don't get me wrong, _Eelo'chali_ , your little plan to integrate the crews is working better than most of us thought it would. But don't think for a second that it's going to last. They still hate us, deep down. We'll always be criminals in Starfleet's eyes. Even you won't be safe when it falls apart, no matter how much you cozy up to Captain Janeway."

I laced my fingers in my lap and forced my face into neutrality. "What makes you say that?"

Seska shrugged nonchalantly. "I just know. If you pay close enough attention, you can see it. Well—“ She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe _you_ can’t. You Terrans growing up in your paradise on Earth don't understand people the same way we do."

“Who is ‘ _we_?’”

“People like me, of course.”

“As in, people who grew up with pressures like war, oppression, and poverty?"

She snorted. "Pressures? You think war and starvation are pressures? You think slavery or torture or rape are pressures? Watching your friends and family die around you? What do you know of real pressure, Starfleet?"

"You're right, Seska, ‘pressure’ is an inappropriate word. I apologize." I paused, cursing myself for my thoughtless language. "This is the first time I recall you saying anything about your family. Would you like to tell me more about them?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Okay, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Let's talk about your off-duty time. Do you believe that you're building positive relationships with others here?"

"Well, I've still got my friends from the Maquis. Torres. Chakotay." She paused to watch me for a reaction, but I offered none. "B'Elanna has been hanging out with Tom and Harry, of course, so I've gotten to know them, too. I think I'm doing just fine."

* * *

“I can’t do it,” I confessed to Captain Janeway. After writing up notes on my session with Seska, I marched straight up to the captain’s ready room. My hands were shaky and sweating. I clenched them into fists. “This isn’t going to work.”

“Slow down, Lieutenant,” Janeway soothed. “Have a seat. What can you not do?”

 _My job_ , was all I could think. My jaw locked up. I perched tensely on the edge of a chair set in front of the captain’s desk. My leg jiggled; I thought about stopping it, but I needed the release.

Janeway’s face tightened with concern. “Lieutenant?”

With my thumb, I traced the outline of a scar at the center of my palm. A memory flashed through my mind, and I stuffed both hands under my thighs. “Chakotay and Seska,” I said. “I can’t build a therapeutic relationship with them.”

“I can understand why assessing Commander Chakotay might be a conflict of interests,” she conceded, “but why Crewman Seska?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m going to need more of an explanation than that.”

I met her sharp gaze. “I assure you, Captain, it has nothing to do with our duty. It won’t interfere with our ability to serve _Voyager_.”

She folded her hands. “Seems to me that it already has.”

“It’s private.” My voice sounded so small. A plea for mercy.

The captain pursed her lips. I had put her in a difficult spot. It wasn’t as if she could simply assign the task to someone else. No one was qualified to do it except for me. The EMH was programmed to treat psychiatric conditions, but he lacked the clinical training and experience necessary to assess their emotional well-being or offer psychotherapy.

Janeway needed an explanation. She deserved one. She was the captain, after all.

“It isn’t just a conflict of interests,” I offered. “The standards governing counselors were relaxed when Betazed joined the Federation, but most other humanoid species still agree that it is unethical to enter a dual relationship of a sexual nature. I _cannot_ counsel Chakotay. Beyond that, it is a counselor’s duty to terminate therapy if they feel that any type of dual relationship will be detrimental to the client.” I swallowed hard. “Seska and I—“ How could I possibly explain? “Chakotay was in a relationship with Seska briefly before he and I— ah, no. I’m making him sound bad. It wasn’t that simple. He didn’t—“

Janeway held up a hand. “I don’t need to know the details, Lieutenant. Are you trying to tell me that there’s bad blood between you and Crewman Seska?”

I nodded. “I already assessed both her and Chakotay to the best of my abilities, and I still intend to submit reports. But I cannot, in good conscience, be a therapist to them right now. Beyond that, I must be upfront with you in that my reports will likely not be unbiased, despite my best efforts. I’m sorry, Captain.”

She nodded. “I understand. Thank you for coming to me. This is a difficult situation for all of us. I expected there to be some bumps along the way, but I believe that honesty and open communication will go a long way in smoothing these things out. I know you are doing your best, Lieutenant.”

* * *

On the surface of an uninhabited M-class planet, Kes and I were getting an education from _Voyager’s_ botanist— Dr. Mona Klegglachen— when Chakotay’s voice rang out over the com. “All units, report to transport site immediately.”

It took a few minutes for everyone to pack up and make their way to the coordinates. Our group was the second to arrive; Neelix’s was the last.

As Chakotay commed the transporter room, I double-checked each unit’s headcount. Neelix’s group was one short.

I tapped my combadge. “Eelo to Seska.”

No response.

I exchanged a glance with Chakotay, who stepped up beside me. “Transporter room one,” he called, “can you locate Crewman Seska’s combadge?”

“Negative, Commander,” came the reply. “No sign of her.”

Harry joined us. “She was picking berries with our group over by the hillside. There were caves nearby.”

“If she went inside one,” Chakotay mused, “it might be blocking her combadge signal.” He glanced from Harry to me. “The rest of you get back to the ship. I'm going to look for her.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Alone?”

We all knew that one-man missions went against Starfleet protocol. Chakotay sighed.

“She was in my unit,” Neelix said. “I’ll help you find her, Commander.”

* * *

After returning to _Voyager_ , we learned why Captain Janeway had been so concerned. There was a Kazon ship hiding in orbit of the planet. Although the vessel did not attack, Chakotay, Neelix and Seska did get into a brief firefight with two Kazon in the cave where they found Seska hiding. Neelix suffered minor injuries, but no real harm was done.

Or, so it seemed.

That evening, Captain Janeway called all senior staff to the bridge. _Voyager_ had recieved a general distress call from a Kazon vessel in serious trouble.

As I made my way to the science station, Tuvok reported, “The ship's dimensions are identical to the vessel we encountered at the planet. It is a Kazon-Nistrim ship.”

“Captain,” Neelix warned, “this may be a trap. The Kazon-Nistrim is one of the most violent sects in the entire Kazon collective.”

On the viewscreen, the recorded image of a Kazon man looped over again. “We need immediate assistance. We have lost all bridge operations. Barely able to function. Please assist.”

The captain paused for a moment to watch the man on the viewer. She turned to Harry at ops. “Mister Kim, can you determine that this ship has sustained genuine damage?”

Harry took some quick measurements at his console. “There are fluctuating nucleonic patterns. It might indicate a reactor breakdown on board.”

Janeway looked to Tom. “Mister Paris, run an extended scanner sequence to identify any other Kazon ships that might be in the area.”

The bridge fell silent as Tom completed the task. “Nothing showing up, Captain.”

“Maintain scans and set a heading to intercept.”

“New heading entered.”

Crossing to where our Delta Quadrant guide stood, Janeway adopted a gentler tone. “I take your warning seriously, Neelix, and we will act with caution. But if we can help them, we should. Besides,” she added, glancing to Chakotay, “this may be an opportunity to make a friend. And, out here, we can use all the friends we can get.”

Neelix nodded. “I understand, Captain.”

Janeway smiled at him, then turned to the center of the bridge. “It’ll be several hours before we reach them. I suggest we get some rest between now and then.”

* * *

Upon our dismissal, I followed Chakotay back to his quarters. “It’s strange,” I mused.

He keyed the entry code into the small panel beside his door. “What’s that?”

“A ship from the most violent Kazon sect shows up, alone, to hide behind sensor tricks and do nothing while we pick berries and dig up roots.”

Chakotay shuddered a bit at my mention of the Delta Quadrant’s most ubiquitous superfood— the leola root. It was disgusting.

I flopped on the couch. “Then, we run across an identical ship from the same sect, sending out a general distress call.”

Chakotay shrugged, settling beside me. “We’re probably in Nistrim territory.”

“Then why not send a distress call to other Nistrim ships? No, something isn’t right here. Doesn’t this seem a bit coincidental to you?”

“Alright,” he admitted. “It does seem suspicious.”

I sighed, stretching my body across the couch and resting my head on Chakotay’s lap. “Captain Janeway needs to learn how to temper her Starfleet altruism with some cold, hard reality.”

He stroked my hair. “Like you did when you joined the Maquis?”

I chuckled and nodded. “Right.” With my next inhalation came the faint scent of something familiar— something repulsive. I cast my eyes around the room until I saw a metal bowl on the dinner table.

Mushroom soup.

On the planet, Seska had wandered into a cave to gather mushrooms. Clearly, she used those mushrooms to make Chakotay a bowl of his favorite soup while Neelix was in sickbay. It was distasteful, considering that Neelix had been wounded while rescuing her from the Kazon. If not for that, Seska never would have gained access to his kitchen.

Two spoons laid beside the bowl, used. Chakotay and Seska must have been eating when Captain Janeway called senior staff to the bridge.

Where was I through all this? Putting in overtime to finish both of their psychological reports.

It wasn’t that I felt jealous over Chakotay’s attention. Although neither of us were seeing people outside of each other, we weren’t exactly an exclusive sort of couple. But I would be damned if I let Seska sink her claws into Chakotay ever again.

Relying on one of the most powerful tools at my disposal, I shifted onto my knees, straddled Chakotay’s lap, and took his mouth with mine. Piece by piece, I did away with our uniforms and their prescribed Federation ideals. This was reality, naked and flawed and so much closer to the soul than those uniforms could ever be.

Yeah, so I played dirty. I wanted to be damn sure that no amount of homemade mushroom soup could ever make Chakotay forget who really had his back. No matter how often we fought, or how strongly we disagreed, it could never change the most basic tenet of our relationship.

Chakotay and I always looked out for each other.

* * *

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the smell of stale mushroom soup. It instantly made me nauseous. I opened my eyes, and there was only darkness. The hum of generators provided low level background noise. I laid, alone, on a hard makeshift bed. How had I gotten there? I couldn’t remember anything. I moved to push myself up, but screamed at the searing pain in my hands.

A door _whooshed_ open— _where was I that had mechanized doors?_ — and white light spilled into the room as a man rushed to my bedside.

“Talia!” Chakotay sounded panicked. “What happened? Are you okay?” He reached for me, but I recoiled.

In the light from the other room, I was able to see my hands. I expected blood and gore, or dirty bandages. Only scars remained, marring the center of my otherwise normal palms. I gaped at Chakotay.

His expression became mournful. “Talia, you’re safe. We’re on _Voyager_ now, remember? They can’t hurt you anymore.”

I panted, trying to separate the past from the present. _Voyager_. I was on _Voyager_ , in Chakotay’s quarters. I had a dream about something that happened months prior, but it was over. I was not in danger anymore.

So why did I feel threatened?

Pulling my mouth closed, I forced myself to take slow, deep breaths. Usually, that helped to ground me and calm me down. Instead, my stomach lurched.

Mushroom soup. I smelled stale mushroom soup, just like the day I woke up in a Maquis medical ward. Seska had brought Chakotay some while he waited for surgeons to put my mangled hands back together.

Bitch.

I shot to my feet, collecting clothes from the floor and yanking them on. I had to get out of there.

Chakotay grabbed my arm. “Talia, wait—“

Wrenching free from his grasp, I shoved him back. “Get away from me!”

He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t you get it?” I spat, pulling on the last of my uniform. “You already have!” I stormed towards the entryway, knocking the bowl and its contents from the dinner table on my way out.

As his door shut behind me, I paused in the corridor to catch my breath. Clean air rushed into my lungs and soothed the churning in my stomach.

God damn Seska, Chakotay and their fucking mushroom soup.


	8. A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One member of Voyager’s crew is not who they appear to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: 01x11 State of Flux

The rumors reached me before anyone involved said a word.

Early that morning, Chakotay led an away mission to the disabled Kazon ship; he took Tuvok, B’Elanna, and Seska along with him. One survivor was beamed to our sickbay, and Kes was in the process of seeking donors to replace his blood. What had the crew talking, however, was a strange piece of technology which had apparently been responsible for the accident. No one knew what it was, as the console remained in a heavily radiated area and could not be retrieved. But within an hour of the mission, all of _Voyager_ knew that it was composed of materials used exclusively by Federation engineers in the Alpha Quadrant.  
  
The rumor went like this: Seska volunteered for Neelix’s unit on the food-gathering mission because he lacked officer training like the rest of us had. She was easily able to distract him, at which point she snuck away to the caves under the guise of gathering mushrooms. When no one was looking, she slipped inside. There, she met with Kazon from the ship in orbit, gave them some of _Voyager’s_ technology, and staged a firefight when Chakotay and Neelix showed up to rescue her.

No doubt Neelix was at least partially responsible for the rumor. He was still upset that she used his stint in sickbay to break into the kitchen and take food that should have been rationed for the whole crew.

That mushroom soup had come back to bite her in the ass.

Served Seska right, in my opinion. I had no idea whether there was anything to the rumors, and did my best to remain skeptical. Rumors tended to be a strange mixture of truth and absurdity, and it was wisest to keep some distance from them. But I had to appreciate the poetic justice of it all, at least.

It wasn’t until much later that day, when Seska made a characteristically impulsive attempt to retrieve the mystery console— and was injured in the process— that my superiors decided to pull me into the investigation.

That was also, conveniently, around the same time that another Kazon-Nistrim ship finally showed up on long-range sensors. We had four hours to figure things out before they arrived, and Janeway wanted to make good use of that time.

* * *

Poor Chakotay was in a very difficult spot.

I sat in Captain Janeway’s ready room, in the very same chair I had taken when I informed her about my problem with crew evaluations. Janeway was behind her desk, fingers steepled as she studied my reaction. Tuvok and Chakotay flanked her.

“Someone has made unauthorized transmissions to the Kazon,” Tuvok informed me. “But we have yet to uncover the identity of this individual.”

I couldn’t help the smirk that tilted my lips. “So this is the nugget of truth within the rumors. Someone really did give our technology to the Kazon.”

“That is not what I said.”

“No, but that’s what you suspect, isn’t it?”

Janeway dropped her hands. “We can’t know until we get the console off that ship. But yes, that is what we suspect.”

“What do the rumors say?” Chakotay asked.

“That Seska gave it to the Kazon while she was collecting mushrooms by the caves,” I replied, throwing a harsh look at Chakotay.

His eyes narrowed. Direct hit.

Janeway pressed her lips into a thin line. “We have one suspect other than Crewman Seska.”

I looked at all three of them. “Am I the other suspect?”

“No,” Tuvok replied, “you are not. The transmission was made during a test of the dorsal emitters, which we conducted a week ago. Only two people involved with that project were assigned to the planet’s surface— Crewman Seska and Lieutenant Carey.”

“I see. And, whoever it was, they used the test to hide their transmission.”

Tuvok nodded. “Precisely.”

Captain Janeway leaned forward. “We will begin questioning Mister Carey shortly, and I would like for you to observe the proceedings. We need as much insight as we can get, and you can give us a unique perspective on his behaviors and responses.”

“I’m a counselor, Captain, not a telepath.”

“I realize that,” Janeway assured me. “But I still think your input would be valuable.”

I nodded. “Alright. I’ll do what I can.”

The captain gave me a half-smile. “Good.” Looking over her shoulder, she ordered Tuvok, “Bring in Mister Carey.”

Throughout the interview, Joe Carey was confused and on-guard. At first, he thought that there was a problem with his job performance. He was understandably upset that the work into which he poured his heart and soul was being questioned.

When the topic turned to whether he had contacted any Kazon ships or personnel, he became defensive.

“What about before we arrived at the planet?” Janeway asked. “Did you have any reason to signal the Kazon-Nistrim ship?”

“No,” Carey insisted.

“Nevertheless,” Tuvok said, “a signal was sent to the Kazon from your station in engineering during our dorsal emitter test last week.”

Carey looked shocked. “My station?”

“Were you not in engineering at that time?”

“Well, yes,” Carey answered breathlessly, “I was, but you know how it is down there during a systems analysis.”

“Did you see anyone else at your station?” Chakotay asked.

Carey grew more defensive. “Honestly, I don't remember. Maybe you should ask Seska.”

I stole a glance at Chakotay, who was watching Carey through narrowed eyelids.

“Why Seska?” Janeway asked.

“Everybody knows she was found in the cave with the Kazon.” Carey paused to take a calming breath when his accusation was met by the captain’s harsh expression. He glanced at Tuvok, who studied the man carefully. Shifting back towards the captain, Joe’s expression softened. He sighed. “Look, I'm not saying she did anything wrong. But I didn't, either.”

“I'd like to believe you, Mister Carey,” Janeway said. “But somebody did contact the Kazon and, until we know who, I'm going to have to restrict you to quarters.”

Carey nodded, accepting the harsh reality. He was a Starfleet officer; he knew how these things worked. At Janeway’s nod, Carey stood and followed Tuvok out of the room, flexing and releasing his fingers as he went.

As soon as the doors closed behind the men, Janeway swiveled to face me. “What do you think?”

“He didn’t delay in reacting or responding to the questions. His body language was appropriate, and matched up to what he said. He didn’t touch his face or ears, or fidget with his uniform or hair.”

“Every Starfleet officer with command training knows how to handle an interrogation,” Chakotay argued.

I nodded. “That’s true. But he seemed genuinely anxious, and his anxiety increased exactly as I would expect it to, correlating to the increased pressure of the questions. He didn’t try to break up the rhythm of the questioning; he went right along with it until he blurted out Seska’s name. And, he appeared to be remorseful afterwards. I don’t think he meant to say that.”

Janeway nodded. “I had that sense, as well.”

“As I said before, Captain, I can’t tell you for sure whether he was lying or not. But I didn’t see any signs of deception.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said. “You may go.”

Glancing at Chakotay as I came to my feet, I noted the ambivalence on his face. He believed Seska was innocent, but he wasn’t sure how to feel about our talk with Joe Carey.

* * *

I barely had time to log my notes from the interview before I was called upon to assist in diplomatic efforts with the newly-arrived Kazon-Nistrim ship. Captain Janeway invited them to visit the injured man in our sickbay, and they accepted.

The leader of the Nistrim sect, First Maje Culluh, beamed to _Voyager_ with one security guard. Janeway, Tuvok, and I escorted him to sickbay where the EMH happily announced to the captain that he had a new report to offer.

“Doctor,” Janeway said, “this is First Maje Culluh of the Kazon-Nistrim. Could you give us the latest condition report on your Kazon patient?”

The EMH eyed Culluh. “Well, the good news is, we've been able to stabilize him.” The doctor led us to the survivor’s bedside. “We had to completely replace his blood.”

Culluh looked suspicious. “Replace his blood? With what?” His security guard produced a handheld scanning device and took some readings of their man.

Janeway smiled proudly at Culluh. “The blood of volunteers from our crew. They saved his life.”

“His own blood cells were killing him,” the EMH explained. “They were changed by the accident on his ship.”

Culluh wasn’t pleased. “Changed in what manner?”

“We haven't been able to determine that yet.”

Janeway pressed on. “We've been working on a plan to access the source of the explosion, which should answer a lot of questions.”

“That will no longer be necessary,” Culluh said. He gave the captain a polite nod. “We will take the damaged vessel to our port for inspection.”

“I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that just yet.”

Culluh turned fully towards her, making the captain look so very small. “And what gives you the right to interfere in our affairs?”

Janeway lifted her chin and set both hands on her hips. “There was a trace of a Federation compound in the remains of the explosion. We have reason to believe that someone on board this ship gave technology to your people. Until we have a better explanation of what occurred, I can't release that ship to you.”

“That is not acceptable.”

“It will have to be.”

Culluh paused for a breath, but did not break eye contact. “Your unique technologies make you brave, Captain, but you have only one ship. In less than a day there will be four Kazon vessels off your bow.”

“Perhaps by then we'll have the answers we need.”

“You will leave us with him,” Culluh demanded.

“Why?” I asked.

All eyes shifted, at once, to me. I had caught both the captain and the maje by surprise.

Culluh sneered. “It is none of your concern.”

“I beg to differ, Maje,” I argued as I angled my body protectively between the unconscious patient and Culluh’s encroaching security guard. “On our ship, everything is our concern. Now, either explain why you want to be left with an unconscious man, or step back so that our medical personnel have space to continue rehabilitating him.”

A large part of me worried that Captain Janeway might rebuke me for taking such a forceful stance. I wanted to throw her a look letting her know that I had reason for my actions, but breaking eye contact with Culluh was not an option in my mind. If she objected, I would simply have to accept the consequences.

Thankfully, the EMH came to my rescue. “It is not advisable to move him right now. It could endanger his life. He should regain consciousness within the next few hours; we can reassess his condition then.”

Culluh tightened his jaw and glared at Captain Janeway. “You will contact us the moment he awakes.”

She nodded. “Of course, Maje.” She kept her eyes on him until Tuvok had escorted both Kazon men out of sickbay. When the doors closed, she turned to me. “What did you see?”

“When the doctor said that his blood had been replaced, he seemed to react negatively to that. It’s possible that their culture takes issue with blood transfusions. I didn’t want them to harm him.”

She nodded. “Good thinking, Lieutenant.”

“If that’s the case,” I continued, “our patient may be equally upset when he finds out what we did for him. There’s no telling how he’ll react, or how cooperative he’ll be with any questions you ask.”

“I understand. I’ll keep that in mind. Dismissed.”

* * *

A few minutes later, the captain was comming me yet again to summon me to her ready room. Chakotay and Tuvok were already there when I arrived. Janeway’s lips were tight and thin, and her blue eyes were sharp like glass.

I braced myself for something horrible.

Janeway got right to the point. “I have just finished speaking with the doctor and Kes. They informed me that Crewman Seska is not, in fact, Bajoran. She was born... Cardassian.”

I blinked. _Cardassian. Cardassian._ The word bounced around my mind like a ball. It refused to make sense.

“What?” Chakotay sounded incredulous.

“According to Kes, Seska’s blood lacks all the common Bajoran blood factors. She and the doctor have concluded that Seska was genetically altered to appear Bajoran.”

Chakotay shook his head. “You expect me to believe she's a Cardassian agent who infiltrated the Maquis?”

Tuvok spoke up. “Starfleet Intelligence has documented several incidents in which Cardassians have used cosmetic alterations for the purpose of infiltrating an enemy.”

“This is crazy,” Chakotay said. “This is just impossible.”

I cleared my throat to loosen a lump. “There's no other possible explanation for her blood factors?”

Janeway shook her head. “The doctor was quite certain.”

“If you don't mind,” Chakotay said, “I'd like to hear her explanation before we dismiss it. Has she been told?”

“No.”

“I'd like to be the one who questions her.”

“We’ll see about that,” Janeway said. “But first, we need to retrieve that console.” She tapped her combadge. “Janeway to Torres.”

“Yes, Captain,” came B’Elanna’s reply.

“Your status?”

“We're finished with the computer simulations. Everything looks okay. We're ready to beam over.”

Janeway smiled. “Good. Then let's get started.” She left the ready room and strode onto the bridge with Tuvok following close on her heels.

Chakotay turned to me. His cheeks were flushed, and his face was grim. “Tuvok was working for her. Seska was working for them. Was anyone on board that ship working for me?”

“I was.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Were you, though? Or were you working for Fayeni?”

I recoiled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head and started towards the bridge. “Forget it.”

* * *

While B’Elanna examined the console, which she successfully retrieved, the survivor regained consciousness. We informed Maje Culluh, who returned with his guard to observe our questioning of his man. The doctor deemed him well enough that we could conduct the interview in _Voyager’s_ conference room.

This left sickbay free for Chakotay to have a talk with Seska. While he set a trap for her to incriminate herself, Tuvok laid a similar trap for Joe Carey. One of them would have motive to go back into the computer system and plant evidence indicating a guilty party. What they didn’t know was that their actions would be monitored, and we would be able to pinpoint which console was being used to plant the evidence. It would either be sickbay, or Carey’s quarters.

As for me, I accompanied Captain Janeway to the conference room.

“It was a food replicator,” she informed our Kazon guests.

“A food... replicator?” The survivor, Maleth, tried to feign ignorance. “What is a food replicator?”

“The console you were attempting to integrate into your ship’s systems,” Janeway said. “We have confirmed that it came from _Voyager_. What happened while you were installing it to cause the explosion?”

“You have examined our vessel with your advanced technologies. Surely, you know better than I what happened.”

“I’d like to hear your side of the story.”

“Neucleonic radiation began to leak from the device. It caused a cascade reaction.”

“How did you acquire the replicator?”

Maleth did not reply.

“We know that a member of our crew made contact with your ship several days ago. Why did they contact you?”

Nothing.

“Why was your ship hiding in orbit of the planet where we were gathering food?”

“We, too, harvest food there.”

“But you were deliberately hiding from our sensors. Why?”

“We did not wish to be disturbed.”

“How did you know what to do in order to deflect our sensors?”

“Coincidence.”

Janeway leaned forward. “So you didn’t recieve any communications from _Voyager_ with instructions on how to hide from our sensors?”

“No.”

“While we were on the planet, did you meet with a member of our crew to obtain the replicator technology?”

Maleth looked Janeway directly in the eyes, and said nothing.

I resisted the urge to sigh. Already, I could tell that, no matter how long we questioned him, Maleth was not going to give us any new information.

* * *

Luckily for us, the captain’s plan worked. While she and I were meeting with the Kazon, Chakotay and Tuvok observed as someone snuck into the computer system and planted evidence.

Janeway, Tuvok, and I waited just outside of sickbay with two security officers. We kept an open com channel with Chakotay as he met with Seska inside.

“Chakotay.” She sounded nervous. “Is anything wrong?”

“It's over. We know who gave the technology to the Kazon.”

“Who?”

Chakotay didn’t even hesitate. “You did.”

“Look, I don't know what evidence you think you've found, but—“

“We found the evidence you put there for us to find— your own security code.”

She paused. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“We already knew where the stolen materials had been taken from before I met with you. We were monitoring the inventory manifest, hoping either you or Carey would try to cover your tracks.”

“Hell of a way for me to cover my tracks, putting in my own security code for you to find!”

“That's exactly what you did. You knew no one would believe you could be that careless. You wanted us to believe that someone else was trying to frame you.”

Seska scoffed. “Ever consider that maybe someone was?”

Chakotay’s confidence did not waver. “We traced the computer station used to enter the data. Oh, you took us all around the system and back again before we could locate the source, but it was this station, in sickbay.”

That was our cue. Captain Janeway stepped forward, leading us all through the doors into sickbay.

Clad in a blue medical robe, Seska’s green eyes held none of their usual luster. For the briefest moment, her face drooped with dismay. When she registered our entrance into the room, she simply looked shocked.

Chakotay pressed on. “I'd almost say it was a Maquis operation, if I didn't already know you were a Cardassian.”

If I had thought that Seska’s eyes couldn’t get any wider, I would have been wrong. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Isn't that why you never got around to a blood analysis when we came on board?”

Seska was almost breathless. “I didn't get around to it because I didn't get around to it.”

“Turns out your blood is missing all the common Bajoran blood factors.”

She glanced at me, her expression desperate. “It's a side effect of Orkett's disease.” She looked again at Chakotay. “Ask your doctor.”

Chakotay narrowed his eyes. “Orkett's disease.”

“A childhood virus that swept through the Bajoran work camps during the occupation. Thousands of children didn't survive. I did, thanks to a bone marrow transplant from a sympathetic Cardassian woman. Her name was Kattell. When we get home, you can ask her yourself.” She glanced at me, the captain, Tuvok, then back again at Chakotay. “You must think I'm horrible. Do you think I gave you my—“ she flattened her hand over her chest— “my heart, to get your Maquis secrets?”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that bounded from my chest.

“Computer,” Chakotay said, “activate Emergency Medical Hologram.”

Our balding holographic doctor materialized beside Chakotay. “Ah, have I been called to testify?”

Still speaking to Seska, Chakotay said, “The doctor has already discounted Orkett's disease as a possible explanation for your blood anomalies.”

“And may I say,” the EMH added, “a doctor less informed about Bajoran medicine might have been fooled, but my program includes the complete Bajoran medical text on Orkett's disease. There's no way any childhood virus or Cardassian bone marrow transplant can explain away the genetic markers in your blood. You are Cardassian, Crewman.”

“But that didn't necessarily make you the traitor we were looking for,” Chakotay continued. “We needed more evidence, and you gave it to us. The one thing I still can't understand is, why?”

Seska gulped, and her affect hardened with determination. “I did it for you. I did it for this crew. We are alone here, at the mercy of any number of hostile aliens, because of the incomprehensible decision of a Federation captain—“ she glared at Janeway— “a Federation captain who destroyed our only chance to get home.” She grit her teeth, and practically spat out her next words. “Federation rules. Federation nobility. Federation compassion?” She looked again at Chakotay. “Do you understand, if this had been a Cardassian ship, we would be home now. We must begin to forge alliances. To survive, we must have powerful friends. The Kazon-Nistrim were willing to be our protectors in return for some minor technology.”

Janeway cut in. “Minor technology that could change the balance of power in this quadrant.”

“Change it in our favor! That is all that matters at this point. Building a base of power in this quadrant. You are a fool, Captain.” She turned her gaze to Chakotay, and her expression became mournful. “And you're a fool to follow her. I can't imagine how I ever loved you. Computer, command XJL.”

Chirping in reply, the computer activated a blue energy beam that enveloped Seska and began taking her molecules apart.

“Computer,” Chakotay barked, “override transport in progress.”

“Unable to comply,” the system responded. “Security lockout is in place.”

“Computer,” the captain said, “identify destination of transport.”

“A Kazon vessel fourteen kilometres off the port bow.”

The com chirped, then projected Tom’s voice into the room. “Bridge to Janeway.”

“Go ahead.”

“The Kazon ship is powering up its engines. It looks like they're getting ready to go to warp.”

“Ready a tractor beam,” the captain ordered.

“I've also got two Kazon warships on an intercept course less than ten minutes away.”

Janeway hung her head.

Tuvok stepped up beside the captain. “Captain, even with our superior defence capabilities, we cannot prevail against three Kazon warships.”

“Awaiting your instructions, Captain,” Tom said.

Janeway sighed. “Power down the tractor beam. Set a course out of here, Mister Paris, warp four. Engage when ready.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

The captain looked at Chakotay, then me. “We'll have to wait for another day to settle up with Seska.”


	9. Dysfunction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia and Chakotay continue work on crew evaluations, but their disagreements threaten to tear them apart.

With the investigation over, I was finally able to write up my first round of psychological analysis reports for the crew evaluations. In order to avoid breaking focus, I stayed in my office through dinner. I had just finished the final report when the door chimed.

"Come in," I beckoned.

The door slid open, revealing Chakotay as my visitor. "You're working late," he observed, walking towards my desk.

I stood, stretching my back before moving around the desk to meet him. "Just finished, actually. The whole thing with Seska put me behind on crew evals, so I wanted to get those done. And, honestly, I just wanted something else to focus on."

Chakotay stopped just in front of me. He had an almost tortured look about him, though he was trying not to show it. His wince when I said Seska's name wasn't something he could cover. I wanted to reach out and touch him, comfort him, but I wasn't sure how he would respond at that moment.

When he didn't say anything, I folded my arms over my chest. "What do you want, Chakotay?"

"I was hoping that I could talk to a friend," he admitted.

I motioned to the couch. "Would you like to sit?"

He shook his head. "A friend," he reiterated, "not a counselor."

I nodded and gave a half-smile. "Okay. I was about to go home for the night. Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?"

"Please."

Chakotay was silent for the entire walk to my quarters. I had always known him to be a more introverted, thoughtful man, but I couldn't remember a time when I'd seen him quite so pensive or melancholy. I didn't break the silence.

As soon as we entered my quarters, I unzipped my uniform jacket and slid it off, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. I motioned towards my couch. "Have a seat," I suggested. "What kind of tea would you like?"

"Chamomile, please, unsweetened."

I ordered two hot, unsweetened chamomile teas from the replicator and carried them over to the couch where he sat, placing them on the coffee table before taking the spot next to him. We sipped our tea in silence for a while before he finally put his cup down and spoke.

"I insisted that she hadn't done anything," he began, looking over at me, "even though all the signs pointed to her. I stuck my neck out for her with the captain and Tuvok. I just didn't want to believe it was her, you know?"

I nodded, putting down my tea. "I know. I didn't want to believe it, either. But, honestly, the replicator wasn't the part that hurt."

"Did you have any idea? Any suspicion that she wasn't who she said?" His eyes pleaded with me, desperate to know he wasn't alone, that he hadn't been the only idiot to miss two operatives under his command.

I put my hand on his arm. "I had no idea, Tay. Really. Even when I did her psych eval the other day, I didn't see it. I don't think anyone did."

"Tuvok admitted that he didn't know, either."

"So why are you still torturing yourself about it?"

He hung his head. "I honestly don't know, Talia. I guess it's just hard to let it go. I let her into every part of my life, and the whole time, she was playing me. For them."

I moved my hand to his back, rubbing it gently. Chakotay was such a private person. Very few were allowed to know much about him, and Seska had been one he opened up to. I knew how violated he must have felt in that moment. Yet, he still came to me and allowed himself to be vulnerable in a way that perhaps nobody else would see.

After sitting in silence for a while, I spoke. "I know we haven't been on the best terms lately, but… thank you for trusting me with this."

He looked up at me with eyes full of weariness, and nodded.

The old impulse to trace his tattoo with my finger returned. I resisted, but my hand paused on his back and twitched.

As his eyes examined mine, the look on his face shifted to one of concern. "How are you doing, Talia?"

My hand fell away from him and into my lap. "Exhausted. Emotionally, I mean. And… lonely. It's not like I'm actually alone here, it's just…" I let the rest of that sentence die on my tongue, afraid to say it out loud. I missed us being us, when it was uncomplicated. Just deep friendship and great sex, with not even a thought about our future beyond the next mission.

Chakotay didn't ask me to finish my thought. He didn't need to. Surely he could see it for himself. His eyes remained fixed on mine as he leaned in slowly, pausing at the place where our noses touched. I said nothing, but allowed my hand to finally find his tattoo. I closed my eyes as his lips met mine, and all of the frozen places inside of me melted underneath the heat. He felt like earth and wind— grounded, but free.

Space had been my home ever since I was born, and I had always known that it was where I belonged. But, being with Chakotay was like taking a break between missions and spending a night under the stars over Dorvan V, with a hot fire crackling before us and the wild at our back. For some, that was how they envisioned home; for me, it was enjoyable precisely because it was temporary.

I knew that the time for temporary was over. Our survival depended on _Voyager_ becoming a generational ship, and I would be in for a lonely trip if I kept thinking of my love life the same way I had before. I also knew that Chakotay and I wouldn't work in the long-term unless we were willing to spend our whole lives swinging violently along the pendulum between loving and fighting, always trying to consume one another at both ends.

I was surrounded on every side by a darkness I could not stand. It was a lonely life being the only counselor on a deep space mission— which was precisely why no deep space missions went with less than two counselors, even on small ships. How was I supposed to be human in a situation like this? Denying basic needs could quickly destroy anyone; for me, it threatened to arouse the psychological demons I kept under careful control. I wouldn’t be able to help anyone like that.

Chakotay felt, to me, like the only source of light and warmth in the entire Delta Quadrant. So, when he slid his hands beneath the layers of my uniform, fingers like fire licking my skin, I pressed myself closer still to the flame. He whispered a petition into my ear, promising more heat, and I didn’t dream of turning him down.

Temporary could last a little while longer.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, Chakotay was already up, and he was not happy about my assessments of the crew. I opened my dresser and assembled a fresh uniform, pulling the pieces on while he gave vent to his anger.

"I just don't think it seems right that half my crew have their psychological profiles flagged, but Paris, the overgrown teenager, passes with flying colors!"

"It's not half the crew," I muttered, walking from my bedroom to the main room.

"It's quite a few."

I picked up my shirt off the floor, turning it right side out and taking my rank pin from the collar before letting it drop at my feet. "So, you're questioning, what? My neutrality? My job performance? My professionalism? My integrity?"

Chakotay walked in behind me and began picking through the clothes on the floor, looking for his shirt. "How about all of the above, Talia?"

"Unbelievable."

"Everyone knows you two are close. Most people think you're more than close."

I paused in the middle of pulling on a sock to look up at him, and laced my question with every ounce of venom that he deserved. "Are you jealous, Chakotay?"

He slipped his hands through the armholes and fumbled with the zipper behind his back. "That's not the point. You're playing favorites, Talia. And the worst part is that it's not even for the people who fought by your side for more than a year, but for the man who agreed to trade all of us in for an early release!"

I stood and grabbed him by the shoulder, forcefully turning his back towards me so I could zip up his shirt for him. "So what do you want me to do, huh? You want me to bump up the grades for my old comrades, go easier on them in the assessments? Or do you just want me to rip Tom a new one in his?"

He whipped around to face me, his face flushed with rage and frustration. "I want you to be fair!"

"Oh, I see, and because I gave a good assessment to someone you dislike, obviously I'm not being fair. No way could scum like Tom Paris actually be a psychologically stable, decent human being!"

We grabbed our jackets and walked out the door, storming down the corridors towards the turbolift. Both of us were on bridge duty for alpha shift.

"So now I'm the one being unfair?"

"You are being unfair, Chakotay! Since the first day you laid eyes on him here, you've been unfair towards him!"

He bristled, now on the defensive against my accusations. "And since the day you laid eyes on him, all you've ever done is take his side. You refuse to see him for what he really is, just like Fayeni did."

I woofed. "Would you stop bringing up Marnah? You are the one who can't see who he really is. You're so blinded by your bitterness that you've never bothered to look past the surface. Well, you're his commanding officer now, and you need to learn what makes your people tick."

We reached the turbolift, and Chakotay pressed the call button. "I know exactly what makes him tick."

"No, you don't, but that's not the point."

The turbolift door swooshed open, and he followed me inside. "Bridge. Then what is your point, Talia?"

"That you need to stop jumping down my throat for doing my job!"

"Then you need to start doing your job!"

"Which job is that, Chakotay? Throwing away a graduate degree and licensure to fly rusty old runabouts around the Badlands, or fucking my cell leader? Because clearly, you don't see my therapy practice as a real job. Maybe I should just let your animal guide have my office so I can go back to doing something useful, like being your sexy little sidekick! Is that what you want?"

Captain Janeway's voice sounded from the wide-open doors of the turbolift. "Problem, officers?"

We looked up to a corridor on deck two where the lift had paused to pick her up. She stood in front of us with her arms folded in front of her chest, waiting for an answer. "No, Captain," we both replied in unison, turning away from each other and taking a step back.

She stepped onto the lift. "Good. I'd hate to have to discipline two of my senior officers for openly having a shouting match in the corridors. Put on your jackets. Bridge."

For the entire rest of the day, Chakotay and I couldn't even look at each other.

* * *

Two days later, Captain Janeway called me into her office. Mentally, I braced myself for the inevitable reprimand, feeling sure that Chakotay had been thoroughly critical of my performance in his evaluation.

"Have a seat, Lieutenant," she said, motioning to the chairs in front of her desk as I entered the ready room. "Commander Chakotay turned in your evaluation yesterday. He withheld his portion of the evaluation, citing a conflict of interest due to his personal relationship with you, which means that the duty falls to me."

 _Oh_.

"He did, however, take full responsibility for the incident on the turbolift the other day. He said that he had failed to separate his personal feelings from his duties, and that you were merely trying to do your job. And, based on the feedback he's gathered from a sampling of the crew about your performance, it sounds like you're doing that job very well."

I let out a breath, struggling to keep the surprise I felt from reaching my face.

"I was doing some research into your Starfleet record, and I found something very interesting. It was a comment submitted by your supervisor at Starfleet Medical, Dr. Garner, after Starfleet received intelligence on your recruitment into the Maquis. He said that you were the best counselor to come through the program in years, and that Command had made a terrible mistake letting you slip through their fingers." Janeway turned her computer console around to face me so that I could see for myself.

My eyes were wide as I read and reread the comment. Finally, I looked again at Janeway, whose neutral countenance had broken into a warm smile. "Not everyone at Starfleet saw you as a liability," she said, righting the computer once more. "I also asked Mister Tuvok for his opinion on the matter; he spoke very highly of you both personally and professionally. I can tell you that he doesn't give praise lightly, so you must be doing something right."

At that, I allowed myself a small smile.

"As for your new role as Chief Science Officer, Mister Chakotay spoke with several of the personnel under your command. While there is certainly room for improvement as far as being able to interpret and communicate their reports to others, they all noted your strong leadership skills and your drive to understand their work the best you could. They are confident that you will represent them well on the senior staff."

She put down the PADD she had been referencing and folded her hands on top of the desk. "I myself have been impressed with your performance so far, both as a counselor and as a senior officer. You're an indispensable part of this crew, Miss Eelo. Keep up the good work."

* * *

I wasn't entirely sure why I ended up outside of Chakotay's quarters that evening; yet, there I was tapping the chime, opening the door at his response, striding across the room to reach him, and crushing my mouth greedily against his when he came to meet me partway.

What was wrong with me, with us?

I pulled away suddenly, breaking our hedonistic hold, and took several steps back before meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry," I breathed, the guilt poisoning the air in my lungs. "I didn't ask. I wasn't thinking. I just—"

He took a step closer to me. "I know."

"I'm still mad at you."

Another step closer. "I know that, too. And I'm still not sorry for what I said."

"Neither am I. But, you told Captain Janeway—"

"The truth," he insisted. "I don't like how you're doing you job, but I can't deny that you're good at it. And the Starfleet crew think you're a godsend."

This time, I took a step towards him. "So we're at an impasse. We'll probably end up fighting again tomorrow if I stay."

"Probably so," he agreed, taking the final step to close the distance in between us. Still, he didn't reach out to kiss me or touch me at all. "So what's it gonna be?"

I knew then and there what was the right thing to do. Adding flame to flame only made the fire hotter and harder to control, and I could not afford to be out of control any longer.

I had learned to use the passion in my soul differently while I was in the Maquis, removing nearly every restraint I had placed on it so it could burn everything in my path. But on _Voyager_ , I needed to put those restraints back, to harness my passion and point it in a constructive direction as I had trained so hard to do.

Indeed, I knew that the right thing to do was to leave.

Yet, standing face-to-face with Chakotay, in the dim lighting of his quarters, all I could think about was the heat coming off of his body, and the heat radiating from mine. My heart thundered in my ears like a horse running at full speed. It was inevitable. It always seemed to be inevitable with us— our meeting, and our destruction.

So, ignoring the ending once again, I snaked my palms up his chest and behind his head, drawing him closer until he slanted his full lips over mine.


	10. Sexual Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager gets caught in the middle of a swarm of space-dwelling life forms in heat. Meanwhile, several members of the crew have their own struggles with sex, love, and family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 2x04 Elogium

Tom, Harry and I had agreed to meet at Sandrine’s and shoot some pool after our shifts ended. The guys had been in the mess hall earlier for differ, but I came straight from my office.

I chalked the tip of my cue. "When is Tom getting here?"

Harry's eyes were narrowed as he double-checked the balls inside the rack. Only when he was confident in the arrangement did he slide the rack away and answer my question. "He said he'd only be another ten minutes or so."

I quirked my lips, amused at how meticulous he was in everything. Leaning over the table, I adjusted the cue ball and took my shot. The nine ball dropped into the side pocket. “Stripes.”

"Solids.” Harry watched the balls ricochet around the table. "So, what exactly is the story with you and Tom? Every time I ask him—"

"Let me guess. Vague sarcastic remarks and crude jokes?"

"Something like that."

I snorted. "Yeah, that's Tom. It's just a defense mechanism, you know."

"Are you supposed to tell me that?"

"That's not from a session. I've known it since secondary school. Eleven in the corner." The ball dropped in easily.

Harry rounded the table. "Was that when you met?"

"It was. 0900 in the back of Earth Civ class. Love at first sight."

"Really?"

I shook my head. "Actually, it was more like, he thought I was cute, and I thought he was a pig. So naturally, we got assigned to do a project together. Ten, corner." I knew my shot would never make it, so I set up the cue ball dangerously close to the eight.

He groaned. "Damn you."

"One day, Tom smarted off to the prof in the most majestic way I'd ever seen. After that, I started to actually talk to him, and it turned out we had a lot in common. We dated on and off through junior year. His parents actually liked me because I kept him out of fights. We still got into our share of trouble, of course— not that they knew about most of it. I do think they suspected we were sleeping together when they went out of town for a weekend during holiday break." I shrugged. "They never said anything about it. I guess they hoped we'd work out."

"What went wrong?"

"We were so dramatic. We'd be completely in sync, then we'd blow up over something and not speak for a while, then get back together again. At the start of senior year, we decided to just be friends, and that was the best decision we ever made. After that, we hit our stride. For whatever reason, it just worked."

Harry nodded slowly. "Well, that explains things. Three, in the side." He didn't make the shot, but he broke up the clump of balls and left the cue sitting between the wall and his six.

I studied the table. "Is there a lot of gossip around the ship about Tom and me sleeping together?"

"Either that, or people saying you should be. And, wondering if that's what caused trouble between you and Commander Chakotay."

"Everyone must think I'm such a runabout, huh?"

His brow furrowed. "A _runabout_?"

I looked at him. "Oh, sorry, flier speak. It's someone who goes from relationship to relationship, not satisfied with one-night stands but unwilling to make any real commitments. Like a vessel that can't decide if it wants to be—"

"—a shuttle or a ship," we finished in unison.

I chuckled and gave a slight shrug. "Well, they're not wrong."

"You're admitting to that?"

"If I embrace it, they can't use it against me, right? I guess we all have our defense mechanisms. Fifteen, in the side." The ball edged the pocket, but it didn't drop. "It's been the same way with Chakotay ever since we got here. We fight, we fuck, and then we fight some more. I wonder if it's time to find something more stable."

The holodeck doors opened, and Tom strutted in. "Why did you deactivate all the characters?" He grabbed a cue from the wall behind us.

"We were talking," Harry replied.

Tom raised his eyebrows. "Oh? What about?"

"Just the love triangle between you, her, and the commander," Harry teased.

Tom’s eyes widened at me. "Wait, you were telling him about _Chakotay_? You've never told _me_ anything about Chakotay!"

I bristled. "You don't like him. You don't wanna hear about us in the sack."

Harry made a face. "Why would she tell you about that, Paris?"

Tom set chalk on the edge of the table. "Because we tell each other everything, Harry."

The younger man's eyes widened. " _Everything_?"

"Everything," Tom confirmed. "You gonna take your shot?"

"Tom's my best gal pal," I explained, "and I'm his wingman. We know everything about each other's relationships," I paused, giving him a sly grin. "Does that make you nervous, Harry? Is there something you don't want me to know?" I walked my fingers up his arm. "Are you _in love_ with me, or something?"

Tom punched me in the shoulder. "Don't be such an asshole, Tal."

I laughed, snatched the chalk, and rounded the table.

Tom leaned into Harry, lowering his voice. "Word to the wise, buddy, she won't need me to tell her that sort of thing. Shrinks find ways of getting into your head— even the ones who aren't telepaths."

I rolled my eyes.

Harry laughed nervously, brushing off Tom's warning. "Well, I guess it's good that I'm not then. Five, corner." He slipped, knocking my fifteen ball in by mistake, then hung his head as he tried to hide the flush of red that colored his cheeks.

I had only been joking, but it seemed that my comment was right on the mark. Did Harry like me? Pushing that question to to back of my mind, I kept my expression neutral and told myself it changed nothing.

For a while, I actually believed that.

* * *

Early the next morning, Harry picked up some odd readings. Captain Janeway decided to investigate, and called in the senior staff. As we walked to our stations, she explained the situation. "We've detected a strange energy configuration off the port bow."

"Any idea what it is?" Tom asked.

"It appears to be some sort of magnetic disturbance," Harry replied.

"We're going to take a closer look," Janeway said.

A few minutes later, Harry's console chimed. "We're in visual range, Captain."

Janeway ordered him to activate the view screen, and a cloud of particles appeared. When he magnified the image, we saw that it wasn't energy particles, but a swarm of space-dwelling life forms. Intrigued, Janeway decided to slowly move the ship close enough to perform bioscans.

"Captain, I'd like to bring Ensign Wildman up here to work with me on this study," I suggested.

She nodded. "Agreed."

Once our xenobiologist, Samantha Wildman, arrived on the bridge, I gave her my seat at the console and monitored our analysis from behind her. "The swarm isn't very dense," I reported. "I count less than two thousand of them."

"Take a look at this," Chakotay said, calling the captain's attention to my display screen as I reviewed the initial biosensor analysis of the creatures. "See the way they propel themselves?"

"They seem to flagellate,” Janeway marveled, “almost like protozoa.”

"They're achieving incredible speeds, though," I observed. "They're currently moving at a rate of over three thousand kilometers per second."

We continued our study for several more minutes, sharing our observations with the bridge crew. When the creatures began responding to our presence, Janeway told Tom to back us off; in response, the creatures began increasing their electromagnetic field, pulling _Voyager_ inside the swarm and interfering with the ship's power output. Main lighting flickered off as the ship automatically shifted into power conservation mode. Janeway consulted with B'Elanna on a method of escape, then returned to the science station where Sam and I continued our analysis of the creatures.

Several minutes later, Neelix entered the bridge and marched over to the captain, huffing about how the EMH threw him out of sickbay. He had taken Kes in for odd behaviors, and learned that she was likely ill from our proximity to the swarm.

I turned to Neelix. "How is Kes being affected by the swarm?"

"That's what I wanted to know," he fumed. "But, before I got any answers, I was summarily dismissed!"

Just then, the com chirped. "Captain,” the EMH said, “I think you and Lieutenant Eelo had better come down here."

* * *

In sickbay, Kes was kneeling on top of the doctor's desk. She was folded over her legs, rocking herself as quiet whimpers poured out of her mouth. She was drenched with sweat.

The EMH met us at the door. "I was conducting tests. She was none too cooperative, let me assure you. Then, suddenly, she screeched and shoved me out of the way, went into my office, and proceeded to erect a photon-disrupting force field at the door. I can't lower it."

Neelix pleaded with Kes, but she ignored him.

I pressed the EMH for more information. "What happened before she went into your office?"

"Well, I mentioned to her the results of the tests I had just completed. Her fever had increased, her pulse and blood pressure were dangerously high. Then, I discovered a strange growth on her back, unlike any other tumourous substance I've ever seen before, which was not there the last time I examined her. That's when she ran into my office."

"Do you have any idea what's causing these symptoms?" Janeway asked.

"I suspect it's the electrophoretic levels being created by the swarm."

As they continued to talk, I stepped to the EMH's office and put a hand on Neelix’s shoulder. "Why don't you let me try?"

He nodded.

"Kes?” I kept my tone calm. “Can you tell me what's happening to you?"

She looked at me and nodded.

"Will you let me come in? No one else, just me?"

Kes studied me for several seconds. Then, she jumped off of the desk and deactivated the force field from the panel behind her.

I stepped across the threshold and slowly approached the desk. "Thank you, Kes. You know what's happening to you, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Will you tell me about it?"

"D-did the doctor tell you he found something growing on my back?"

"Yes, he did. What is it?"

"It's, it's the mitral sac. It's where my child would grow. I'm going through the elogium, the time of change, when, when my body prepares for fertilization."

"I understand. Kes, in your medical studies, have you learned about Terran sexual development and reproduction?"

She nodded.

"Is the elogium similar to puberty? Or is it more like the ovulation cycle?"

She shook her head. "It's different. And, I'm too young— much too young. It usually happens between the ages of four and five. I'm not even two yet. I'm not ready!"

"Kes, what makes the elogium different from Terran reproduction?"

"The elogium occurs only once. If I am ever going to have a child, it has to be now!"

* * *

Counselor’s Log, supplemental

While I took Neelix and Kes to my office to talk them through the possibility of becoming parents, Captain Janeway returned to the bridge to focus on getting _Voyager_ away from the swarm.

In the end, Sam and Chakotay deduced that the creatures had mistaken _Voyager_ for a potential mate. When a much larger creature approached our position and took an aggressive posture, viewing us as a rival, Sam suggested mimicking the smaller creatures in order to make ourselves appear submissive. Then, the creatures allowed us to leave.

Kes' metabolic processes returned to normal on their own, prompting the EMH to suggest that her condition was a false alarm caused by the electrophoretic activity. He believes that she will go through the elogium at the proper time, when her body is ready for it. This, course, was a great relief to Kes. The experience has inspired her to study the process more deeply. The EMH approved her study to count towards her medical degree, which she is making rapid progress towards completing.

* * *

In yet another twist of irony, it was around this time that Sam announced she was pregnant with her Ktarian husband's child. She had known for quite a while, but Ktarian gestation was twice as long as human gestation. This allowed her some time to put off the announcement, and mentally prepare herself for single motherhood.

Soon, the whole ship was buzzing about children on _Voyager._  It worried Captain Janeway very much.

Janeway had begun to rely on me as a counselor— but only on her terms. We met in her ready room, rather than my office. The meetings were not on my usual schedule. I didn't take notes or operate under any specific procedures like I did during my sessions, keeping it casual instead. Most importantly, I allowed her full control over the conversation rather than directing it with my questions.

We sat on the couch in her ready room with a pot of coffee in front of us, and she vented her concerns. "What kind of life would we be giving them aboard a starship, traveling through unknown and hostile parts of space?"

"You know, Captain," I offered, "my brother and sister and I grew up on a starship. The space wasn’t quite as hostile as the Delta Quadrant— I’d much prefer Klingons to the Borg— but it wasn't always safe, either. Still, we loved it. For my brother, it made him sure that he wanted to command a starship just like our dad. I fell in love with xenolinguistics and deep space exploration. Even my sister, who preferred having blue skies above her, enjoyed the adventure of it all. Kids are more resilient than adults give them credit for."

"I suppose that's true," she conceded. "But, usually ships that house children are much larger, and have been constructed with families in mind. Are we equipped to provide for children's needs? Child care, educational facilities— we'll have to build all of it."

"I think we'll do what we have to do, when we have to do it; but, I don't think it's something we need to worry about right now. We have plenty of time before enough people start having children for it to become a real issue. Most of the crew are still grieving over significant others they left behind in the Alpha Quadrant. They aren't ready to begin dating again, let alone to think about having children with new partners."

She sighed, looking at the picture on her end table. It was a happy family photo of Janeway, her fiancé Mark, and her dog Molly.

"Captain," I said gently, "is it possible that you're latching onto concerns about the crew having children because you're still not ready to accept your own loss?"

She continued staring at the photograph for a while before turning to me with sad eyes. "Maybe so, Lieutenant."

I didn't pry any more than that, and we moved the conversation onto other things. In my mind, though, I wondered if Janeway could ever be convinced to consider her own happiness during our journey through the Delta Quadrant. As the months and years passed, she would need much more than a bunch of officers— more, even than comrades. Those closest to her would need to forge connections with her that went beyond duty. If not, she might isolate herself until she drowned in despair. Someday, her happiness could be the difference between our survival and destruction.

And what was true for her was true for the rest of us, as well.

* * *

That evening, I stopped by Chakotay's quarters. "We need to talk.”

He gestured towards the couch. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you," I said, sitting down.

He sat and watched expectantly.

I cleared my throat. "I've been thinking. Things are different now— with us, I mean. Before, it was so easy. We never thought about the future; all we thought about was our next night together, the next mission, the next battle. But, now—"

Chakotay nodded. "We have to start building lives out here."

My eyes welled with tears. I looked at my hands and stroked the creases in my slacks. "I can't do this anymore," I whimpered, my voice breaking like glass. "You've been my best friend for the past year, walked with me through the darkest and most confusing time of my life, and I can't stand to lose that for something we both know won't last."

He stilled my hands. When I didn't look up, he lifted my chin so he could see into my eyes. With his thumb, he wiped away the tears that slipped down my cheeks. "I know that you're right, but I wish you weren't. Sometimes, I really think I could—"

I cut him off with a quick kiss. "Don't. Please don't say something that's gonna make me forget why I have to do this. All I want right now is—" I slid my hands up his chest and grasped the opening of his uniform, sucking in a deep breath of air that was pregnant with his scent. Then, I released everything at once.

He wasn't mine to hold onto, not anymore.

"If we hadn't come here,” I said, “then maybe. But, it's different now. We can't keep it from bleeding into our duty."

He sighed. "This is shitty."

"It really is.” I stole one last moment to trace his tattoo with my fingertips and memorize every detail of his beautiful face.

When my fingers slipped down to the corner of his mouth, he pulled me closer and kissed me long and slow. I almost lost myself in that moment, my fingers teasing the opening of his uniform.

 _Just one more night_ , I thought. It would be so easy, and it would certainly feel better than going back to my empty quarters. But even as the temptation solidified in my mind, I knew it was the very same voice I had been surrendering to for a while and that it had only made me put off the inevitable.

Chakotay must have sensed it, too, because he pulled back. “I’m sorry. I think I steered us in the wrong direction.”

”I’m not,” I whispered, licking my lips, “but if I don’t go now, I may never leave.”

He nodded, watching me closely and waiting for me to go, but I didn’t want to move. I sucked in a deep breath, blinked the tears out of my eyes, and sighed. “Leave, Talia,” I commanded myself.

Chakotay laughed, squeezed my hands, then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. We held each other close in a gesture that somehow seemed to convey everything between us more accurately than sex would have.

Finally, I worked up the courage to let him go, and I stood to leave. Putting my hand on his jaw, I spoke two words that I hadn't said to him in a long time. "Goodnight, Chakotay."

He put his hand over mine and looked up at me, the glassy sheen of his moist eyes reflecting the dim overhead lights. "Goodnight."

* * *

Later that night, Harry stopped by to make sure I was okay.

"I ended it," I told him. My eyes filled again with tears. "It's over."

He walked quickly over to the couch where I sat and took the space beside me, hesitantly touching my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Talia," he said softly. "Is there anything I can do?"

I looked at him, the moisture in my eyes distorting his features but not disguising the kindness in his face. Regardless of how he felt about me, I knew I could use a friend that night. "Will you stay with me?" I whispered.

He pulled me into a hug. "Of course I will."

Releasing all of the air in my lungs, I closed my eyes and leaned into the sound of his heartbeat. The steady rhythm filled my souland echoed through me, encouraging my own heart to match its pace.

After a while, my tears dried and I could breathe again. Tucking my legs against my chest, I gave myself permission to be selfish just once more, and drifted into unconsciousness as the sound of his heart's dependable drumbeat thumped just below my ear.


	11. Walking Over My Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A telepathic alien attempts to take Voyager by causing powerful hallucinations for the crew, forcing them to face some uncomfortable subconscious emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 2x08 Persistence of Vision

"I don't detect anything so far," the EMH reported as he scanned Captain Janeway's head with a medical tricorder. "No evidence of aneurysm, subdural hematoma, stroke."

I stood by the biobed where she sat and made notes on a PADD. "You say you’ve never experienced any kind of hallucinations before? Not even single-sensory, such as sounds or smells that weren't really there?"

Janeway shook her head. "Never."

“Is anyone out to harm you?"

"Not that I know of."

"Do you possess any inexplicable supernatural abilities?"

She frowned. "No."

"Is someone or something else controlling what you think and feel?"

"I don't think so."

"Have you been having any out-of-body experiences, or any feelings of being disconnected from yourself or from the present?"

"No. The hallucinations always feel real, and I always know who and when I am when I'm having them. Could it be stress?"

"Possibly," the doctor replied. "Did you go to the holodeck as I ordered?"

"Yes."

"And was that relaxing?"

"It was _interesting_. I'm not sure how _relaxing_ it was."

The EMH handed his tricorder to Kes, who took it to the console in the middle of the room and started uploading the data. "There are other possibilities we should consider,” he continued. “I want to scan for airborne bacteria and viruses. We should investigate the possibility of an alien intruder. And I'd like to do a cerebro-cortical scan on you."

Kes jolted, rubbing at goosebumps that prickled the skin of her arms. "Strange. Suddenly I felt cold and shivery."

"Someone was walking over your grave," the captain quipped. Both Kes and the EMH shot her concerned looks, which she waved off. "It's an old Earth saying to describe an odd feeling like that."

"How macabre," the EMH muttered. "Kes, would you please get my sub-neural scanner from the medical lab?"

"Yes, Doctor.”

The room had only just fallen into silence when Janeway gasped. She stared, wide-eyed, at empty air. "Doctor! Lieutenant! Who do you see here?"

We both looked around the room.

"I see you and Lieutenant Eelo," the EMH replied.

"And I see you," Janeway said. "But, I also see a little girl from my holodeck program."

As Kes returned from the lab, she stopped short and wobbled on her feet. It was as if she had run into something. She watched with wide eyes as something we could not see moved across sickbay.

Janeway threw her hands up in front of herself defensively, wincing as if something was about to hit her.

The EMH glanced from one to the other. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Janeway panted. "The image of the little girl suddenly rushed at me."

"I saw it too," Kes said. "When I came in, I felt as though something hit me— bounced off me— then I saw the little girl moving right into you."

"As though you became a mirror. You reflected her back toward me."

Kes looked pensive. "I've been doing some mental exercises with Tuvok developing my telepathic abilities, but we haven't done anything like this."

"Are we sure this is a psychological or physiological problem?" I interjected. "Could something, or someone, be putting these images into the captain's mind telepathically?"

"It would certainly explain why we can't find anything wrong with her," the EMH said. "But, I'd still like to perform more tests."

"I _do_ get the sense that there's something else going on," Kes admitted. "I'm just not sure what."

I turned to Janeway. "Do you have any thoughts, Captain?"

She stared blankly ahead.

"Captain?"

She didn't even blink.

I looked at Kes. "Do you see anything now?"

"No, nothing yet."

The EMH retrieved a neuroimaging device and proceeded to scan Janeway's head. "Fascinating," he muttered as he read the data on his medical tricorder. "Her brain activity would seem to suggest she is acting out normal, daily functions. Wait a minute. Her cortisol and adrenaline levels are spiking."

Kes' eyes widened. "I see something. A woman in a long dress is approaching her with a knife."

"Focus your telepathic energy on the woman, Kes," I told her. "See if you can deflect her back into the captain, just like the little girl."

Kes focused on the space in front of the captain, her eyes full of determination. “The woman is receding into the captain, just like before.” She blinked and looked at me. “She’s gone now.”

I put my hands on Janeway’s shoulders. "Captain. Captain Janeway, can you hear me?"

She jerked, blinked a few times, then glanced all around the room. As reality set in, her face reflected shock... then despair.

I tapped my combadge. "Sickbay to Commander Chakotay."

"Chakotay here.”

"You'd better get down here. We've got a problem."

* * *

The day before Captain Janeway began hallucinating, she had arranged to meet with a native species called Botha. _Voyager_ arrived at the rendezvous coordinates about an hour after Janeway relieved herself of command. I was in the middle of researching telepathic anomalies when Chakotay called me to the bridge.

He was already conversing with the Botha representative when I arrived. On the viewscreen sat the who silhouetted figure of a humanoid male. I had barely made it to my station when the comlink malfunctioned and cut off.

Chakotay turned to Harry. “What happened?”

”I ordered Mister Kim to terminate the transmission,” Tuvok said, “and make it look like an accidental interruption. I am concerned about some anomalous sensor readings.”

“I'm getting them too,” I confirmed. “Residual energy displacements. Two discrete readings. One off the port bow, one off starboard.”

”Cloaked ships?” Harry asked.

Chakotay looked at Tom. “Reverse course, Mister Paris.”

“Aye, sir.”

My console beeped. “Two ships decloaking.”

“The Bothan ship is powering up weapons,” Tuvok reported.

“Evasive maneuver gamma five,” Chakotay ordered.

 _Voyager_ jolted as weapons-fire slammed into her shields. 

“Report!”

“Shields at eighty seven percent,” Tuvok answered. “Minor damage on decks four and twelve.”

“They're turning back for another strike,” I warned.

“Initiating evasive pattern beta two,” Tom said.

We exchanged fire with the Bothan ships for a few minutes, our shields steadily dropping while we seemed to do no damage to theirs. Tom continued trying to escape, but the enemy somehow predicted his every move and cut him off.

Then, Harry made an observation. “There's something weird going on, Commander. I'm not reading any life signs on the two ships that just decloaked.“

”There's no crew?”

I engaged the biometric sensors to check Harry’s claim. “Confirmed,” I said. “No life signs.”

“Looks like the ships are automated,” Harry continued. “They're being controlled by the Bothan ship.”

”Tuvok,” Chakotay said, “concentrate your fire on the lead ship.”

After firing another volley, Tuvok reported, “We have hit their weapons array, but not severely enough to disable it.”

“Commander,” I warned, “the three ships are manoeuvring to surround us.”

“Get us out of here, Paris.”

“I'm trying!”

Another volley of weapons-fire rocked _Voyager_.

“Shields down to twenty one percent,” Tuvok reported.

“We've got damage on all decks,” Harry added. “Reports of injuries.”

Chakotay hung his head. “All stop.”

A chirp sounded at Harry’s station. “The lead ship is hailing us, Commander.“

”On screen.”

The dark figure sat again before us. "Your ship is damaged and your captain incapacitated. I will accept your immediate surrender."

Just then, Captain Janeway entered the bridge. "You're not getting one. The captain is fine."

"I don't think so. I think the battle is over now." The figure stood and walked into the well-lit foreground.

I gasped. I was not staring at an alien, but into a pair of turquoise eyes that mirrored my own. "Marnah.”

Marnah smiled. " _Ja'ital._ "

She looked just like she had the last time I saw her. Those turquoise eyes were bright and determined. Straight copper hair was pulled back into an efficient bun that always seemed to leave out a few short, red whisps around her angular face. An ornate Bajoran earring that marked her as an Eelo was displayed on her right ear. Even though she was slightly malnourished from living so long on stolen ration packs, she still looked as strong as ever.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I reminded myself that she wasn’t real. I distracted myself by running whatever scans I could think of.

"Mister Paris," Janeway said, "who do you see on the viewscreen?"

"It's—" Tom gulped. "It's my father."

"I see my girlfriend, Libby," Harry said.

Janeway turned away from the viewscreen. "Mister Kim, shut down visual."

"I'm trying, Captain," Harry insisted, his voice weighted with frustration. "It won't terminate."

"Mister Tuvok, do a multiphasic scan on those ships. I want any evidence of defensive weakness. And prepare the forward photon torpedoes for launch." When he didn't reply, she looked to tactical. "Tuvok!"

He stood in place, staring blankly at the screen.

Janeway walked to his station and shook him. "Tuvok!"

"Captain, I'll do it," Harry volunteered. "Running a multiphasic scan."

The com chirped. “Torres to the bridge.”

”Janeway here.”

”We’re having problems down here, Captain. People are becoming catatonic at their stations.”

”It’s happening here, too,” Janeway said.

Results from my scans began popping up on my screen. “Captain, there's a massive energy field coming from those ships.”

”What kind of energy field?”

”It's bioelectric, modulating on a delta wave frequency. It has psionic properties, and it's permeating the hull." I looked up to meet her eyes. "So it _is_ telepathy. Psionic fields have a psychoactive effect. That’s what’s making everyone hallucinate."

"You can try remodulating the shields," B'Elanna suggested, "but in the meantime, I'm going to set up a resonance burst from the warp core. That will probably block the field, but it'll take a while to set up."

"Get on it," Janeway ordered.

" _Ja'ital_ ," Marnah said, " _ja'talin'sera_ , you must listen to me. I was on a mission when an alien array brought me to the Delta Quadrant. I couldn't get back home, so I began traveling on my own. These people, the Botha, they captured me. They've captured many people from all over the galaxy. But I can give you their secrets. Just listen to me."

" _Ah'vayzan'va, meral'ek_!" I snapped, pulling the knife from under my jacket.

"Lieutenant Eelo!"

I jolted. My hands were still on my console, and my knife was still in its sheath. As I looked around the bridge, I realized that Chakotay was gone. I struggled to push through the confusion in my mind, clawing my way back to reality. Marnah called to me. Tears blurred the edges of my vision, but I didn't even dare to blink. I reached up to wipe them away. "I'm here, Captain."

"I need the shields remodulated on a rotating frequency."

"Aye, Captain." I glanced at ops.

Harry’s eyes were wide and unblinking, and he stood completely still.

"Paris, are you still with me?" Janeway asked.

"Sure am, Captain. I'm running the scans on those ships."

"Good. I suggest you don't look at the viewscreen."

"Oh, it's not even tempting."

" _Ja'ahkaya per ja'ital_ ," Marnah cajoled. "You're so strong. I'm so proud of the woman you've become. But, you're so lonely. You gave up everything to be there for me when I was lonely. Let me be here for you now. _Kana, chali_."

I shook my head. "I can't remodulate the shields, Captain."

"Captain, I'm getting results from the scans," Tom reported. "No apparent defensive weaknesses. Metallurgical analysis is inconclusive."

"Try moving us out of here," she said. "If we can get some distance between us and those ships, we might be able to block the effects."

"Yes, ma'am."

As soon he entered the new course into his console, I heard the faint hum of a transporter beam on the bridge and the _shink_ of a knife being drawn from its sheath. I looked up just in time to see Tom slide to the floor, a gaping wound between his ribs. I opened my mouth to cry out, but I was too late. Captain Janeway collapsed, as well.

I pulled my knife and jumped to my feet. Before me stood the decorated Cardassian soldier, Gul Dukat. " _Ah'no talin'serakem_ ,” I muttered. _I am strong-hearted_.

Dukat and I circled one another. "Maquis filth," he spat.

"Cardassian scum," I shot back.

He grinned.

"What are you so happy about, asshole?"

"You've already lost the fight, Little Eelo."

"I know who you are, Botha. You don't fool me. Any minute now, our engineer will activate the resonance burst, and we'll be free from your telepathic attacks."

"Your engineer has already succumbed to me. They all have. But, you, I suppose, I'll just have to kill with my own hands— just like I will kill your mother."

I tightened my grip on the hilt as I roared at him. Marnah had trained all of us kids in Bajoran combat techniques. I never had the instincts for it like she did, but with Tom and Captain Janeway bleeding out on the floor, and the rest of the crew lost in a trance, everything came down to an ability that I had never felt entirely confident in.

I had to finish my opponent fast.

Time slowed to a crawl. I could feel every groove and scratch on the hilt of the old knife as I flipped it in my hand, catching the tip of the blade between my thumb and index finger. I followed each muscle as it contracted, from my core to my right arm when I swung it up and pulled it back behind my shoulder. I tasted every molecule of air that I forced from my lungs as I propelled the blade forward with the full force of my strength, sending it spinning end over end towards Dukat's smug eye. The moment it left my fingers, I moved to lunge at him shoulder-first, trusting my knife to distract him just long enough to divest him of his own wickedly long blade.

But, it never hit its mark.

Suddenly, I was back at my console as if nothing ever happened. My knife was still sheathed, and I blinked against the bright overhead lights. Dukat was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Captain Janeway.

Tom sat at the con, looking just as confused as I felt. Without thinking, I rushed over to him, checking his side for a stab wound. "Are you okay?"

He grabbed my hands. "Tal, it's okay. I'm okay. The captain must have activated the resonance burst from engineering. We're locked out of bridge controls, but we're okay." He smiled at me. "We're okay."

* * *

Personal Log, Eelo Talia: Stardate 49095.8

Even though the telepathic alien has gone, I can't stop thinking about what I saw... and what I did. After chatting with some other crew about their hallucinations, it seems clear that he chose visions so unsettling that we could not ignore them. Most of the crew are reluctant to share details openly, though several have already asked to be added to my schedule as soon as possible. I get the distinct feeling that most of us saw things we've tried to bury and forget. As victimizing an experience as it was, it will force many of us to face hard truths about ourselves that we'd rather ignore.

For me, it's that I possess the very same dark impulses as what I actively decry. It's all well and good to fight with efficiency when phasers are set to stun, but it's much more costly when the heat of battle cools and I can't seem to wash the blood from my hands. It doesn't matter how many times I do it, or how many ways people justify it. I still carry the weight of every single life I've taken, and I always will.  It's easy to believe that I'm past killing now that I'm no longer in the Maquis. Today I was reminded of just how quickly my killer instinct takes over.

I suppose there is comfort in the fact that I'm not alone. We hold these dark secrets so close to our hearts, too embarrassed to show others our flaws and unable to accept ourselves as imperfect people. The truth is, we're all in the same place. It's only when we're brave enough to reveal these secrets that we can start to figure things out together.

* * *

The next morning, Captain Janeway asked if I could squeeze her into my schedule at the end of the day. 

"Have a seat," I told her, gesturing to the couch in my office. "Computer, activate session setting Eelo-alpha-five-one-three, and access psychological records for Kathryn Janeway."

"Session settings active," the computer responded. "Kathryn Janeway psychological records accessed. Please review and verify session terms and policies."

Snatching a PADD from my desk, I followed her to the seating area and took a grey wingback chair across from the couch. "Before we begin, I do have a few procedural things that I have to mention. First, everything we discuss in this room is protected by confidentiality. However, any diagnoses I make or behavioral issues I observe can be put on record and shared with certain approved medical, security, or command personnel if it is necessary for the health and safety of you or other members of this crew. Second, I am required to file a report if I have any reasonable suspicion of abuse, neglect, self-harm, or criminal activity. And third, it is my own practice that we do not refer to each other by rank or position while in session, but by name. To acknowledge that you understand and accept these terms, please state your vocal access code for the computer."

"Computer,” she said, “voice authorization Janeway-pi-one.”

"Authorization accepted," the computer confirmed.

"Thank you, Kathryn.” I crossed my knees. "How are you doing this evening?"

"I'm doing all right, Lieutenant, considering the circumstances."

I lifted my eyebrows.

"Talia," she corrected.

"It will feel awkward to use names at first, but you'll get used to it. I do it to foster a more egalitarian relationship between us, and to make it less intimidating to communicate with one another."

She nodded. "I understand."

"I must admit, I was a little surprised when you asked for an appointment. Would you like to tell me about what prompted you to do this?"

She sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "It was the hallucinations from the Botha gentleman. Actually, it started with my holonovel. I take the role of an ancient English governess for two children who have recently lost their mother. In the last chapter I opened, my employer— the children's father— he… well, he declared himself to be in love with me, and he kissed me. And… I liked it, but it also made me feel guilty. I think that's why it became the main issue of my hallucinations."

"Did you see Mark in your hallucinations?"

"Yes."

"What did he say to you?"

"He said— he asked if I remembered him, and if I thought about him. He wondered if Lord Burleigh was taking his place in my thoughts. And he was disappointed in me for allowing myself to feel the way I did about this holocharacter. He told me that he missed me, and that he'd committed to wait for me however long it takes to get home." Her voice softened, and she looked down at her hands. "He wondered if I would be just as faithful to him."

"Do you believe that you have acted unfaithfully towards Mark?"

"No.” She looked at me. "I don't _think_ so."

"Do you feel guilty about your activities?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure why."

"Most people don't consider romance holonovels to be infidelity," I said. "Have you participated in them before?"

"Yes, of course."

"While you were with Mark?"

"Yes."

"Did it bother either of you then?"

"Not at all."

"So what makes this time different, other than the distance?"

It was several seconds before she gave an answer. "The truth of the matter is that I do find myself thinking about Lord Burleigh outside of the holodeck, and I don't think about Mark as much as I used to."

"Why does that bother you so deeply, Kathryn?"

She shook her head. "I'm not entirely sure. Sometimes, I wonder if it's too soon to start moving on. I'm afraid to think about what my life is if Mark's not a part of it anymore. And, honestly, it feels a little silly to admit to having feelings for a holocharacter."

I leaned forward. "Kathryn, our brains react very similarly to fictional characters in stories as they do to real people. This is even more true on the holodeck, where we interact with them like real people. It's not an inherently bad thing. Often, such connections help us improve skills like empathy and creativity. There is no shame in having feelings for a holocharacter."

She chuckled. "Well, I'm glad you think so. I almost didn't say it out loud."

I smiled. "I'm glad you changed your mind. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"Do you have any insights to offer?"

I sat back. "Kathryn, have you ever considered the possibility of dating? Not right now, necessarily, but down the road?"

She squirmed a bit. "As the captain, that's not a luxury I have.”

"As captain, you're also supposed to eat separately from the rest of the crew and avoid developing close personal friendships with them," I reminded her. "But there are no captains, admirals, or civilians to satisfy your sexual or relational needs here. You can't very well expect yourself to function as a captain at all times with all people. Besides, Starfleet purposely keeps those guidelines under the heading of 'Recommended.' Nobody at command expects deep space officers to keep them."

Janeway stroked her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose that's true. We didn't exactly debate the issue in command school."

"Well, I never went to command school, but I did grow up in deep space. I saw my parents successfully maintain a happy marriage that shifted between professional hierarchy and domestic partnership every day. I saw them develop deep, life-long friendships with crew who were their subordinates on duty and their drinking partners off. Those people helped raise me. They sent me birthday coms every year after we moved to Earth, and they came to my graduations. We became a family out there. It's not always easy, and it's not without complications, but we are communal animals. We need each other to survive."

"That's an insightful perspective, Talia. Perhaps we should talk about that in more detail sometime."

"I will always make time in my schedule for you, Kathryn. Nothing would make me happier than to see you allow yourself to be happy. Right now, being happy may mean using the holodeck to satisfy your sexual and emotional needs. Eventually, when you're ready, you can allow yourself to make deeper connections with the crew, and have relationships that transcend duty. I'll help you as much as you need me to."

She smiled. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think that will be happening for quite a while."

I shrugged. "Perhaps not, but my point is that I don't want you to have a reason to be closed off to it. You are very good at your job—  _very_ good. But captains are not islands, and your crew needs you to recognize that. They put their lives in your hands every day, and they need you to be as healthy as you can be. It sounds backwards, but perhaps the most selfless thing you can do for your crew is to allow yourself to be happy."

When the computer notified us that time was up, and released the communications block, we both stood at once. 

"Well," Janeway said, "you've given me a lot to think about. Thank you."

"Of course. Let me know when you're ready to schedule another session."

"I will." She turned towards the door.

"Um, Captain?" I said tentatively.

She looked again at me, her mouth quirking with amusement at my sudden change of address. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

I smoothed my hands over my uniform. "I, uh, I know it's against uniform code, so I understand if you say no, but I wanted to ask—"

She nodded. "Go ahead."

I cleared my throat. "I'd like to request permission to wear my earring, Captain. To honor my mother and my people."

She smiled. "Permission granted, Lieutenant. But, if I may, why didn't you ask before?"

"I'm not accustomed to wearing it with my Starfleet uniform," I answered honestly. "I didn't think much about it. But, after seeing my motherin those telepathic hallucinations... well, I guess I didn't entirely appreciate the importance of some things until they were 70,000 light-years away."

She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. Her sharp blue eyes were full of compassion. "I understand." With a reassuring squeeze, she bid me goodnight.

Returning to my desk, I looked slowly around the room. Then, with my face tilted upwards, I closed my eyes. " _A koochi moya_ _,"_ I prayed softly, borrowing a method Chakotay once taught me. "I am far from the sacred places of my grandmothers. I am far from the bones of my peoples. But, perhaps there is one powerful being who will embrace me and carry a message to the spirit of _ja'marnah_ , Eelo Fayeni. _Ja'ahkaya per ja'ital, ji'pagh rana tah_.  _Ekan’va kost fal solem_.“

Akoonah or no, I couldn't help but feel like she heard me somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ja'talin'sera: my strong-heart  
> ah'vayzan'va, meral'ek: go away, liar  
> ja'ahkaya per ja'ital: my love and my light  
> kana, chali: come, sweet child
> 
> Ja'ahkaya per ja'ital, ji'pagh rana tah. Ekan’va kost fal solem.  
> My love and my light, our soul is one. We will be together again.


	12. Light and Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia works with Lon Suder to help him cope with his conditions. Chakotay facilitates Bridge Officer Traning to qualify more senior staff for command. Seska orchestrates an attack on Voyager.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 2x11 Maneuvers

After one of our usual dinners in the mess with Tom and B'Elanna, Harry asked me if I would like to go for a walk on deck eight. That stretch of corridors was the longest and most circuitous on all of _Voyager_ , making it the ideal place to stretch one's legs in such small living space.

"Ice skating?" I repeated as Harry and I rounded the corner by pod storage. " _That's_ the craziest thing you've ever done?"

"Hey,” he said, “I don't like the cold.”

"So, what, your friends pressured you into it?"

"No! I did it of my own free will."

I grinned at him. "You did it for a girl, didn't you?"

He blushed. "Maybe a little bit."

"Oh, how sweet! Did you win her over?"

"Well, it wasn't a date or anything. We were just friends. She wanted to go one weekend, but her roommate had gone home, so she asked if I'd go with her, and I said yes."

I laughed. "Harry, why so shy with women?"

"I'm not shy! I'm just… careful."

"Mmhm."

”Besides,” he added, “she— I wasn’t really her type.”

“What,” I teased, “she wasn’t into kind, smart, and handsome?”

His cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, but his eyes sparkled with humor when he replied, “Too much penis.”

“Ah-ha, I see. So, you’re a sucker for impossible women.”

”I have high standards.”

At that, my heart sunk a bit. I gulped and looked away, then noticed Lon Suder walking towards us. I smiled at him. "Hi, Lon."

He nodded politely as we passed. "Talia."

When he was out of earshot, Harry leaned in close to my ear and lowered his voice. "Is he, you know, okay?"

"Harry, you know I can't answer that question."

"I know. He just gives me the creeps."

I shrugged. "He's misunderstood."

After we finished walking the circuit, Harry escorted me to my quarters on deck four. At my door, I turned to face him and smiled. "Thanks for the company, Harry. I really enjoyed our walk; I'm glad you suggested it."

He smiled back. "Me, too."

My eyes slipped momentarily down to his lips, and I had to drag them back to his eyes. Oh, but those eyes. I took a shaky breath. "Goodnight."

His cheeks tinged with the slightest touch of pink. "Goodnight."

When the doors slid shut behind me, I exhaled sharply and leaned against the wall. What the hell was I doing, falling for the sweetest and most innocent officer on _Voyager_? What was wrong with me? I would break his big heart.

—Or, he could be the best relationship I'd ever had.

* * *

"Are you and Ensign Kim romantically involved?" Lon Suder asked me the next day during our session.

"Lon, you know that's not how this works," I chided.

"He likes you, you know."

The corners of my mouth pulled up of their own volition. "What makes you say that?"

"I saw it in the way he was looking at you, before you noticed me in the corridor. I see that you like him, too."

After my initial evaluation of Lon, I had requested the EMH perform a few tests. More specifically, I wanted him checked for Visual-Psionic Synesthesia. My suspicion turned out to be correct; his psionic abilities were much weaker than most Betazoids, but still functional. Cross talk in his brain lead to his empathetic ability being interpreted as visual, rather than psionic, sensory input. In essence, Lon saw feelings. That diagnosis alone unraveled much of his mystery for me.

"What about now?" I asked, inviting him to practice his unique skill. "What do you see when you look at me today?"

He gazed at me with intensity. "Isolation."

"Well read.”

He tilted his head to one side. "Are you lonely, Talia? You should ask Ensign Kim on a date; maybe you'll feel better."

I quirked an eyebrow. "You like to play mind games with people, don't you? I do, too. It's innately satisfying to throw someone off-balance, to force them to face the uncomfortable realities that everyone tries so hard to pretend don't exist within themselves."

"Mmm, yes. The inner darkness is a most exciting thing, isn't it?"

"Indeed. Tell me, how would you describe your own inner darkness?"

Lon grinned devilishly. "So brazen, Little Eelo. You need to practice being more subtle. If I let you shine a light on my darkness, it would no longer be dark. What's the point of it, then?"

"You'd rather hold onto it, even though it blinds you?"

"Oh, no, you misunderstand. I embrace both light and darkness. You say darkness blinds, but light blinds us even faster than darkness does. We are not made to live entirely in the light. There must always be shadow. We cannot learn about light from the light; it’s too intense. It is the shadows that teach us about the light."

I nodded. "Very well. Are you gaining a better grasp on your own inner light and shadow with the mindfulness technique I taught you last week?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. It's quite liberating to neither ignore the thoughts nor engage them. There is a certain empowerment in being able to recognize them just as they are— to let them come and go in my mind without taking action. I never would have thought that passivity would feel more empowering than action, but it does."

"I'm glad to hear that. Do you have any questions about the process, or any other insights from your experience that you want to share with me?"

"None in particular."

"Good. This week's assignment, on top of continuing your mindfulness meditation, is to develop a social code. Essentially, this is a short list of rules that you want to impose upon yourself in order that you can function well within society. Do you remember, a couple weeks ago, when we talked about taking a logical approach to your impulses?"

"Yes. You made the point that acting on my impulses can often have the effect of scaring, angering, or alienating other people from myself, which will leave less human resources available to me when I need them."

"Exactly, so it's more logical to resist impulses that will isolate you, and to instead act in socially acceptable ways, because it is more beneficial for you to have social connections that you can rely on. So, a social code is going to be a list of the specific ways you will put that approach into action. For example, resist the urge to harm to others unless they pose an immediate threat to your safety, because disrupting the social environment you are in will have a negative effect on you."

"Interesting. And these codes can be as specific as I like?"

"Yes, but I recommend you keep the list short and simple so it's easy for you to commit to memory."

The computer chimed. ‘The session has ended. Session settings deactivated.’

"I'll have my social code ready by next week, Lieutenant,” Lon promised.

"I look forward to it.“ I smiled. “Good work this week, Lon. You're doing great."

* * *

I worked through my usual dinner time that evening, so the mess hall was quiet by the time I got there.

"Talia!" Neelix greeted. "You came just in time! I was about to put away all of the food."

I grabbed a plate. "I'm glad I got here when I did, then. It all looks very good, Neelix."

When my plate was full, I turned to find a seat and spotted Chakotay at a table in the back. For three months, we had kept a professional distance between us. I figured it was as good a time as any to test our friendship. "Can I join you?"

He looked up and smiled. "Of course. How are you tonight?"

"Good," I answered, taking the seat across from him. "Just working a little later than normal. You?"

"I'm doing well, thank you. Are you ready for the bridge officer's test tomorrow?"

"Quite excited, actually. I'll kick your test's ass."

He laughed. "Really? Because, I was planning on it kicking yours."

"I guess you'll finally get to see how much I remember from what you taught me in the Maquis. The answer, by the way, is _everything_."

"I know. You could do my job if you wanted to."

“I don’t know about that,” I demurred, “but thank you."

"I mean it. If it does take another seventy-four years to get home, you'll be Tuvok's first officer by the time it's over."

I wanted to tell him that it wouldn't take so long— that we'd find a faster way back and he would see his home again before he died— but I couldn't get the words out.

He took a sip of his tea. "How's it going with Suder?"

"Great, actually. I think you'll be pleased with his next evaluation."

"I'm glad to hear it. If you can help him, you might change my mind on counselors."

"Really? So, when would you like to schedule your first session?"

He shook his head. "Don't push it."

I laughed. "Just kidding. You seem like you're doing better, Tay."

"I am. Odd as it sounds to admit, I think this place is good for me."

"Do you enjoy being back in uniform?"

"Yes and no. I'll never like being tied to procedure all the time, but I did miss the order that hierarchy brings. And, it's nice being on a ship that's not always on the verge of breaking down."

I nodded. "That's true."

"You seem to be happier here, too," he observed, studying my face.

"I am. Happier than I've been since I was on Alpha-Tri. Maybe by the time we get back, Starfleet will realize how much they fucked up with me."

"They'd be stupid not to." He stared out the window behind me. "I wonder how our people are doing right now— if they've declared independence, or if the Cardies have put them down."

I rested my hand on top of his. "They haven't been put down, Chakotay. The Maquis are survivors. They will get their way eventually. The Federation can't forever ignore all that the Cardassians have done."

He looked skeptical. "Are you sure about that?"

Though I didn't say it out loud, I knew that my honest answer was no. I wasn't sure about that at all.

* * *

Personal Log, Eelo Talia: Stardate 49185.7

The bridge officer's test went very well, allowing me to hold a rank more befitting of a CSO. It's a little surreal; a year and a half ago, I was a Maquis rebel, and I fully expected to never wear a rank on my collar again. When Captain Janeway restored my old rank of Lieutenant, I was just glad to not be in confinement. Then, a few days ago, Janeway informed me that she and Chakotay wanted me to take the bridge officer's test so I could qualify for command. Now, I’m a Lieutenant Commander.

They also invited Harry to participate in the test, given that he's been put in a senior position on the bridge. He and I took turns going through the first three simulations— diplomatic law, first contact procedures, and bridge operations. The final test— engineering qualifications— we had to do separately. Testers cannot be allowed to know ahead of time that passing it depends on being able to order someone to their death. It was technical and heartbreaking, but I figured it out by my second try. Harry seemed more shaken by it than I was, but he passed. He wears a new pip on his collar to prove it.

It is a little disconcerting to know that this promotion might someday be the very thing that forces me to be the death of a crewmate. My parents have both had to make decisions like that before, so it's not as if I didn't already know about that part of command. Still, it's one of those things that never gets any easier to swallow.

* * *

A week later, _Voyager_ discovered a communications beacon, which was sending a Federation signal directly to us. Hopeful that Starfleet had found a way to contact us, we followed its signal to a nebula. The moment we directed a tractor beam at it, _Voyager_ shuddered.

Captain Janeway steadied herself on the railing that surrounded the center dais of the bridge. “Report.”

“We are taking fire from inside the cloud,” Tuvok said.

“Source?”

“Unknown.”

Janeway took her command chair. “Battle stations.”

With the science station’s specialized sensors and algorithms at my fingertips, I actually had an edge on Tuvok at demystifying the phantom in the nebula. “The source looks to be a Kazon raider at coordinates one-five-eight mark nine. I’m not sure what sect.”

“Hail them, Mister Kim,” Janeway ordered.

There was a moment’s pause before Harry said, “They're not responding, Captain.”

“Warp three, Mister Paris. Get us out of here.”

Tom had barely acknowledged the order when the massive vessel broke through the haze of purple gasses. As it fired on _Voyager_ , there were energy surges all over our ship. “Warp engines are offline, Captain.”

“That’s convenient,” I muttered.

“Initiate evasive pattern omega three. Mister Tuvok, return fire.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Kazon ship is in pursuit,” Harry warned.

“An opening is forming in the starboard shields,” Tuvok said, “seventy two centimetres in diameter.”

Janeway looked to tactical. “See if you can close it, Commander. Try rotating the shield harmonics.”

The Kazon fired again, clearly undeterred.

“They are continuously matching their weapons frequency to our shield frequency.”

Janeway swiveled her head towards Chakotay. “How the hell can they do that?”

“I don't know.”

Everyone scrambled to find a way to counter the Kazon’s attack, but to no avail.

“It's as if they know our access codes,” Chakotay observed.

Just then, my console alerted me to movement. “Captain, there’s something else in the nebula— something smaller.”

“The beacon?”

I shook my head. “I think it’s a shuttlecraft.”

“Confirmed,” Harry said. “It’s emerging from the cloud now.” He paused as it came into sensor range. “It’s Kazon.”

“It is heading directly toward the opening in our shields,” Tuvok added.

Janeway gripped her armrests. “All hands, brace for impact.”

The shuttle slipped through the opening in our shields and slammed into _Voyager_ at full impulse speed. The inertial dampeners did well to absorb most of the shock, but it still gave us all a hard jolt.

‘Warning,’ the computer said. ‘Hull breach on deck four, cargo bay two.’

“Containment protocols are in place,” Tuvok said, “but main power and life support are failing on deck four.”

“Rerouting auxiliary power,” Harry responded.

‘Warning,’ the computer added. ‘Intruder alert in cargo bay two.’

Tuvok ordered his security teams to deck four, then left the bridge to join them. Mike Ayala— one of the few former Maquis with officer qualifications— took his place at tactical.

Meanwhile, the rest of us attempted everything we could think of to make an escape. After a few minutes, Tom threw up his hands. “It’s no use. We're not going anywhere with that shuttle sticking out of our side. It's totally destabilising our warp field.”

Just then, my sensor net crashed. “Harry, did you reroute power from my sensors to transporter room two?”

“No, sir,” he responded.

“Bridge to Tuvok,” Chakotay commed. “There may be intruders in transporter room two.”

“Acknowledged.” It was a tense few moments before Tuvok announced, “The Kazon have beamed away, and they've taken one of our transporter modules with them.”

“Captain,” Harry said, “The Kazon ship is hailing.”

She threw a confused look at Chakotay before ordering the com on screen.

It was Culluh.

“Captain Janeway,” he greeted. “First Maje Culluh of the Kazon-Nistrim.”

“I remember you, Culluh,” Janeway seethed. “That transporter module you just stole was specifically designed for our ship. You'll never be able to integrate it into your systems.”

“I've had some help updating our technology since we last met.” Lifting a hand, Culluh gestured towards someone out of view. Then, like something from a nightmare, Seska stepped into the frame. She no longer sported her former Bajoran features. Her skin was nearly stone-white, with only hints of pink remaining under the surface. Corded ridges guarded both sides of her neck, and smaller cords rimmed her browbone. At the center of her forehead was an inverted drop-shaped ridge, which was tinged blue.

Chakotay spoke for all of us when he growled, “I should have known you were involved.”

“Yes,” Seska agreed, “you should have. Just like I knew exactly how you would respond to our attack, every step of the way. You've always been so predictable.”

“Captain,” Harry said, “the Kazon ship is powering engines.”

Seska smiled. “Goodbye, Chakotay. Lovely to see you again.” With that, the com signal was cut, and they were gone.

* * *

The bow of the Kazon shuttlecraft jutted several meters into the cargo bay like a spear in the belly of a whale. It looked as if it had been molded and sharpened to a point— an unusual design element that contradicted the rounded, oblong look Kazon ships usually had.

By the time I arrived, several of the staff were already present— Captain Janeway, Chakotay, Tuvok, Harry, B’Elanna, and Neelix. With the PADD in my hand, I tapped Chakotay on the shoulder. He looked at me, and his affect immediately darkened in response to the grim look on my own face.

“What is it?”

“Sensor analysis,” I said as I offered him the PADD.

Although he accepted my report, he responded the way that command officers tended to do, which was to ask me for a verbal summary of the important stuff so he wouldn’t have to read it. “What did you find?”

“I think you should look over this one yourself, Tay, and tell me what you think.”

The truth was that my conclusion was something very serious— something that would contraindicate Janeway’s usual strict adherence to Starfleet policy— and I wanted Chakotay behind me before I voiced it.

To do that, he needed to draw the same conclusion on his own.

Chakotay narrowed his eyes at me, reading the pointed look on my face. Nodding just once, he proceeded to review my report.

As I walked towards the Kazon shuttle and surveyed the damage it had caused to _Voyager_ , B’Elanna crawled out of the shuttle’s cockpit. “They modified the bow to puncture our hull.”

Neelix was flabbergasted. “I've never seen the Kazon do anything like this before.”

“Until now,” I pointed out, “they’ve never had an ally with Kardasi, Maquis, and Starfleet tactical experience.”

Harry sighed. “The question is, how do we dislodge it without losing structural integrity? With main power down, our containment fields are extremely unstable.”

“We'll have to reroute additional power to the containment field and tow their shuttle out with one of our own,” B’Elanna said. “Then we can repair the breach. The shields and the warp drive will have to wait.”

Janeway gave a sharp nod. “Warp drive isn't going to do us much good with this knife stuck in our belly. Get it out fast. We don't want the Kazon to put too much distance between us.”

Neelix’s eyes widened. “Forgive me, Captain, but are you sure going after the Nistrim is the wisest course of action after what they've already done to us?”

She turned to face him directly. “Let me make something very clear. The Nistrim are in possession of Federation technology. That is an unacceptable situation.”

“Even though all they've stolen is a small computer component?”

“That small component has the potential to cause vast problems in this quadrant.” She paused, perhaps to remind herself that Neelix wasn’t familiar with Starfleet policy, and changed tactics. “You're our resident expert on the Kazon. What do you think the other sects will do when they realise the Nistrim have transporter capabilities?”

“They'll try to get it for themselves any way they can.” His face lit up with understanding. “You're right. It could alter the balance of power among the sects.”

“Exactly. And it is our duty to do everything we can, no matter how dangerous, to stop that from happening.”

Neelix nodded. “You can count on me, Captain.”

Chakotay stepped forward. “From the look of these sensor readings, Seska wants us to come after her.”

 _Yes_. He saw it, too.

Janeway frowned. “Commander?”

He glanced at me, nodded, then looked back to the captain. “I think Seska's leading us into another trap. She masterminded a precision raid that made us look like first-year academy students, but she left a warp trail for us to follow. After such a flawless performance, why would she suddenly make that kind of mistake?”

“You think she wants more than the transporter.” A muscle in her jaw twitched. “Are you suggesting we don't follow her?”

That was what I wanted to recommend.

“No,” Chakotay said.

I opened my mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. Defying both of my commanding officers— and Starfleet’s precious Prime Directive— in front of half the senior staff would get me nowhere.

Chakotay continued. “I agree with everything you said about preventing the spread of our technology. But, conventional tactics aren't going to work with Seska. We'll need to come at her with a few surprises of our own.”

“I'm open to suggestions.”

Tuvok locked his eyes pointedly on Chakotay. “Perhaps Commander Chakotay could use his intimate knowledge of Seska to manipulate her in much the same way she manipulated us.”

I grit my teeth to keep from arguing.

While Chakotay’s unexpected agreement with Starfleet policy should have been my first clue into what he meant to do, the incensed look on his face should have been my second. Instead, I missed both signs because I was too focused on forcing my own inner turmoil to conform to Janeway’s standards. I goddamn deserved the promotion I had earned, and I wasn’t about to loose it because of Starfleet’s stupid politics.

* * *

Oddly enough, B’Elanna seemed to be on board with Janeway’s plan. She and Chakotay worked together to come up with a way to find and destroy the module Seska stole. It was better than trying to get it back, at least, so I convinced myself that it would work out.

I assumed that the reasons for Chakotay’s tacit support of the Prime Directive were similar to my own. He was happy on _Voyager_ — a condition I had never truly observed in person. Something about his service to Janeway and our combined crews had brought him a kind of peace. Why threaten that homeostasis with a spat over policy?

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Just as we were convening in the briefing room to discuss how we could get close enough to destroy the module, we realized that Chakotay was missing. In the time it took for the senior staff to gather on deck one, he commandeered a shuttle and slipped away to destroy the module by himself.

About thirty minutes later, we got his message beacon. "Chakotay to _Voyager_. If this signal has been activated, it means that I have destroyed the Nistrim's transporter capabilities. Captain, I apologize for acting without authorization, but I ask you not to put the ship or crew in further jeopardy by attempting to rescue me. It's unlikely that I'm still alive."

I should have seen it coming.

* * *

Within ten minutes, Captain Janeway, Tuvok, B'Elanna and I were in the briefing room. Nobody could sit down. While Tuvok and B'Elanna argued about whether we should abandon Chakotay or rescue him, I stood off to the side, leaning against the table and staring at the scars etched into my palms.

"We've got to go get him," B'Elanna insisted.

"Commander Chakotay has expressly requested that we not attempt to do so," Tuvok reminded her.

"We don't have to honor that request," B'Elanna shot back. "Captain?"

Janeway turned away from the window and looked directly at me. "Commander, you've been extremely quiet throughout this entire chain of events. What are your thoughts?"

Tuvok and B'Elanna waited on me to break their stalemate, both believing that opposing qualities within me would lead me to support their side. Logic or heart; which should I follow?

"I agree... with Tuvok," I said quietly.

"What?!" B'Elanna balked. "Are you kidding me, Talia?"

I held Janeway's gaze. "The truth is, I thought from the start that we should have run fast and far from the trap Seska laid for us. A transporter module is nothing compared to the whole ship. If we go after Chakotay now, even more of our technology could fall into their hands."

"It is also important to remember that the commander may not still be alive," Tuvok added.

B'Elanna grit her teeth. “He’s alive.”

"B'Elanna's right about that," I said. "Seska won't kill him as long as he's still of use to her. I have no doubt she knew exactly how all of this would go. She will expect us to come for him."

Janeway took a step towards B'Elanna. "My gut tells me we should go after Chakotay. But my better judgment tells me we should honor his request."

B'Elanna softened in the face of Janeway's honest inner conflict. "I would never want you to ignore your judgment, Captain, but let me ask you this. In your judgment, how would the loss of our first officer affect this crew? What would it do to the morale on this ship? Maybe this is an instance when your gut is giving you better advice."

Janeway glanced at me, and I pursed my lips. In the end, it wasn't my call; it never was. Secretly, I wanted her to take B'Elanna's side, but I also feared what could become of us if she did. My logical mind reminded me that while our psyches were tender, we would eventually adjust to the change and move on. Why risk our lives to avoid temporary grief?

The look on Janeway's face as she turned back towards B'Elanna told me how deeply she was coming to care for Chakotay. She nodded, then commed Tom and ordered him to resume our course towards Cullah's ship.

I walked away from that meeting unable to rejoice in Captain Janeway’s decision to side with B’Elanna. Although I had made the right argument according to procedure, I knew that I had become the very thing I hated most about Starfleet.

I put procedure before people.

Worse than that, I broke the most basic tenet of my relationship with Chakotay. I stopped looking out for him. I left him behind. And it wasn’t even for the same noble intentions that he had acted out of. No, I did it to protect myself and my own status in the eyes of Captain Janeway and Tuvok— and, by extension, Starfleet. I had proven myself loyal to Starfleet protocol, but at what cost?

The life of one of my best friends... and of my own soul.

* * *

Our gamble turned out to be lucky that time. Captain Janeway was able to outsmart Seska and get Chakotay back. We all thought she would demote him and confine him to quarters, given how upset she was, but she merely put him on report.

To Chakotay, the captain’s disappointment stung far more than Seska’s plotting or Cullah's beatings.

I was on the bridge recalibrating my station’s sensors when Harry picked up a communications beacon.

“Another one?” Janeway asked.

“It’s a message to Commander Chakotay... from Seska.”

Janeway turned to Chakotay. “Would you like Mister Kim to put it through to your office?”

Chakotay shook his head. “No. I think I've spent enough time alone with Seska.”

“Very well.” She glanced at Harry. “Put it on screen.”

Seska’s green eyes glittered with glee as she delivered her message. “Hello, Chakotay. Congratulations on your victory. I look forward to our next meeting. Oh, and there's something you should know. While you were unconscious, I took the liberty of extracting a sample of your DNA. I impregnated myself with it. So, I guess more congratulations are in order.” She smiled. “You're going to be a father.”

All the light that once filled Chakotay’s face was snuffed out in an instant. After Seska’s announcement, he became increasingly angry and isolated. He wouldn’t talk to anyone about anything other than duty— not even to me. Seska had finally broken him.

After that, the only thing that alleviated my own sense of guilt was the thought of my knife meeting Seska’s throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Alpha Trianguli III, the location of Federation Starbase 310. The planet is on the far edge of Federation space next to the Cardassian border. It is close to the Dorvan and Valo systems, and houses massive Federation medical facilities (Source: Memory Alpha).


	13. Mind Your P's and Q's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager encounters an immortal man, imprisoned inside of an asteroid, who wants to be granted the right to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 2x18 Death Wish
> 
> CW: Death with Dignity

The Q are, by nature, incredibly intentional in their timing. I don't imagine that they could be any other way, given that they have the ability to manipulate the space-time continuum. That being said, their liaison to the Federation has a tendency towards apathy and boredom. He often delights in choosing inopportune moments to show up on Starfleet ships. Naturally, Q's favorite starship to visit is Starfleet’s flagship, the USS _Enterprise-D_. On occasion, however, he has been known to visit other places.

One such location was the USS _Hepburn_ , where I grew up.

I was five the first time I met Q. _Hepburn_ was playing host to the Federation ambassador to the Klingon Empire, Curzon Dax, and was escorting the Empire’s flagship through a nebula that sat in between Federation and Klingon space. This nebula, called the Mutara nebula, was the only nebula of its kind in known space. This, obviously, made it an incredibly important object of scientific study.

Although the Federation had a peace treaty with the Klingon Empire, the relationship was always a tenuous one. Klingons prided themselves on a strong warrior culture, to the point that their most central mythical story depicted the first Klingons slaughtering their own gods. This stood in stark contrast to the Federation’s ethos of peaceful scientific exploration. It was a special relationship that required finesse to maintain.

That was why Captain Taylor specifically chose my parents for the mission. _Hepburn_ was the only Starfleet vessel working hand-in-hand with Klingon scientists to study the Mutara nebula, and my parents were experts at strategic diplomacy.

The Klingon flagship was lead by Dahar Master Kor, son of Rynar. He was one of the most decorated warriors in the Empire, and had an illustrious military career. He was also a close personal friend of Ambassador Dax.

By the end of the tour, Master Kor hailed Marnah as ‘ _an honorable warrior of both Bajor and the Federation, with a Klingon heart beating inside her breast_.’ He was especially impressed to learn about the hard training she put my brother and me through to master the Bajoran combat technique of _Talin Sera_. Kor offered to teach us the Klingon art of _Bat’leth_ the next time we met, and I was obliged to accept.

At the time, I was far too young to understand what Q had to do with any of this. His appearance on the _Hepburn_ was a complete shock to Starfleet and Klingon alike, and his trickster persona was downright offensive to everyone.

Yet once he left, no one seemed to care much about what had happened. Even Starfleet was disinterested in the random appearance of an all-powerful alien interrupting an important diplomatic mission. Most of the fleet was left unaware of the Q’s existence until he showed up on the _Enterprise_ two decades later. It made no sense, once I thought about it.

But I suppose that was the problem— I never really thought about it. I simply accepted the easy answers, and continued on with my own little life.

* * *

When Mike Ayala disappeared with a flash in the middle of a counseling session, I immediately commed the bridge.

Ensign Megan Delaney, a stellar cartographer with no command experience, responded to my call. She informed me that they had been attempting to transport a sample from an asteroid to study, and ended up with a man who called himself Q. Soon after that, Captain Janeway vanished. A few minutes later, all of the men on the bridge vanished. This left Megan as ranking officer on the bridge.

"Hang in there, Meg," I told her. "I'm on my way up right now. I've dealt with Q before. I'll try to locate Captain Janeway, and we'll take it from there."

"That won't be necessary, Commander," came Janeway's voice through the com. "I've been returned to the bridge. However, I would like for you to report here immediately."

I stood from my chair. "Aye, C—"

In a flash of light, I was simply there. Beside me stood Janeway and a short, light-haired man I had never seen before. He smiled, took my hand, and shook it vigorously. "Hi, there! So good to meet you, Lieutenant Commander Eelo. I figured I'd save you the trouble of coming all the way here from your office. You're a counselor! How fascinating that must be. Well, good luck to you all. I really must be going now."

Janeway planted her hands on her hips. "Return my crew!"

The Q, who we would later come to know as Quinn, shrugged. "I'm not sure how." He put his hand to his chin and muttered, "Hmm, Terrans. Who would have recent experience with Terrans?"

I crossed my arms and quirked an eyebrow. "I might have an idea."

Just then, the Q liaison appeared on the bridge. "Well, I am truly touched that after all this time you still remember your dear old Q, Little Eelo."

I quirked my lips to one side. "As always, your timing is impeccable."

He smiled. "Isn't it, though?" Turning his gaze to Quinn, he narrowed his eyes. "What have you done now, Q? Terrans aren't supposed to be in this quadrant for another hundred years."

I frowned.

"I didn't bring them here," Quinn insisted, throwing up his hands. "Nothing to do with me."

Q seemed concerned about that answer, but he set the issue aside. "How did you get out?"

Janeway took a step towards him. "I'm afraid we're responsible for that."

Q eyed the captain suspiciously. "Hmm, well, I guess that's what you get for having a woman in the captain's seat."

His blow landed exactly as he had intended it to; Janeway's nostrils flared, and she jutted out her jaw defiantly. "May I assume that you're the Q I've heard so much about?"

Q grinned. "Oh, have you heard about little me? Has Jean-Luc been whispering about me behind my back? Has my favorite test-tube Bajoran been telling you stories about all the fun we used to have together?"

I snorted. "That's what you call it, Q? _Fun_?"

"Well, I thought it was. Didn't you?"

"You kidnapped Marnah to convince her to run away with you, and you stranded us in the Mutara nebula for two days!"

Q sighed and shook his head with disappointment. "She has no idea what a rare opportunity she turned down. Oh, the things I could have shown her." Then, he glanced around the bridge before returning his gaze to Janeway. "Say, is this the ship of the Valkyries, or have you Federation women finally done away with your men altogether?"

Quinn's face flushed slightly with embarrassment. "There was a slight accident."

Q quirked an eyebrow at him. "Let me guess. You were trying to commit suicide."

When Quinn merely shrugged, the liaison rolled his eyes and turned to Janeway. "Now you see why we've locked him up for the last three hundred years." With a snap of his fingers, Q returned all of the male crewmen, who glanced around with confusion.

Q eyed Chakotay. "Ooh, facial art! How very wilderness of you."

Chakotay frowned. “Captain?”

Mike commed from my office, wanting to know what happened.

"Lieutenant Commander Tuvok can brief you on what happened later," I told him. "Suffice it to say, we had an odd situation come up. I'm sorry, but I need to stay on the bridge for now."

"Understood.”

"There," Q said with a smile. "You see? Everything's back to normal. Now, Q, we should be going."

Quinn shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere. Captain Janeway, I demand asylum."

Q snorted. "This is a joke."

It was definitely _not_ a joke. For the next several minutes, _Voyager_ was transported to some of the most obscure locations in space-time as the two Q attempted to outsmart one another. Every time Quinn would take us to a different— and often dangerous— place, Q found us immediately.

"You can't take me by force!" Quinn shouted at the liaison. "I'll stalemate you for eternity if I have to."

"The hell you will!" Janeway snapped, planting herself between the Q. "The vaunted Q Continuum—self-anointed guardians of the universe. How dare you come aboard this ship and endanger this crew with your personal tug-of-war! You want asylum? Fine. We'll have a hearing."

Q balked. "A hearing? You would have me put his future in your delicate little hands?"

She put both hands on her hips and glared at him. "When the captain of a Starfleet vessel receives an official request for asylum, there is a clear procedure to follow. I suggest, to end your deadlock and save my ship, that we follow it to the letter."

* * *

With both Q in agreement on the terms of the hearing, Captain Janeway summoned Chakotay, Tuvok, and myself to her ready room. Resting an elbow on the back of her couch and crossing one knee over the other, she debriefed us on what all had taken place. Then, she looked to me. "Miss Eelo, what can you tell us about your parents' encounters with Q on the _Hepburn_?"

"There's not much to tell other than that he had a strange and mildly problematic interest in my mother. He came on three separate occasions, and it was always the same thing; he'd take her to some obscure part of the universe to try and seduce her, she would turn him down flat, and then he would leave. The incident with the Klingons was his first visit, and it was the most dramatic one. The other two were rather uneventful."

"It is curious," Tuvok observed, "that these encounters were not entered into Starfleet records until several years after they occurred."

I shrugged. "Our experiences with Q were nothing like his later interactions with the _Enterprise_. Given the immediate importance of the work our crew was doing with the Klingons, I'd be surprised if Starfleet looked twice at the reports on his visits. Why take the time to open a new file for a single alien whose only interest is sex?"

"Surely, his actions during your first encounter would have been deeply offensive to the Klingons," Tuvok observed, "especially at such a sensitive time in the Empire's relationship with the Federation."

"Yes, Master Kor was very displeased at first. But, when Marnah returned and—"

The looks on their faces made me pause for a few seconds until I realized that they did not know who ‘Marnah’ was. I breathed a laugh and tried again. "When my mother returned and reported what had happened, Kor said it proved what a desirable and honorable woman she was. In the end, I think Ambassador Dax was more upset about it than Master Kor was."

"Is there anything more you can tell us?" Janeway asked. "Anything at all that might help us in this situation?"

I shook my head, but a realization struck me. "You know, now that I think about it, the encounter probably boosted the diplomatic relations between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. My mother developed a great relationship with Master Kor after it was over, and our work with the Klingon scientists to study the Mutara nebula was quite successful. Not that it has anything to do with this particular conflict, but it may speak to Q’s character.”

Tuvok tilted his head slightly. “Are you suggesting that it was Q’s intention to assist in improving relations between the Federation and the Klingon Empire, and not simply an attempt to seduce your mother?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “To be honest, I never really thought to ask about those sorts of things. I was only five when it happened. All I wanted to know was that Q wouldn't take my marnah away from me."

* * *

During the first session of the asylum hearing, Q made the argument that Quinn’s suicidality made him mentally unstable. Naturally, Captain Janeway turned to me for assessing this. Although she acknowledged that his alien biology— if it can be called that— would greatly impact his psychology, the issue was more complicated than I think even she realized.

Psychology isn’t merely a product of biology; it is also a product of environment. I had no knowledge of either one regarding the Q— no baseline for normal behavior within the Q Continuum, let alone for Quinn as an individual. Even in the Q’s interactions with humanoid species, they took on the affect of those with whom they visited. How could I assess a non corporeal shapeshifter?

Yet, I had little choice. After making a formal note in the record explaining my limitations, I went about doing some research in _Voyager’s_ database. Then, I performed the assessment to the best of my abilities on _both_ of the Q.

Quinn compared himself to a mortal afflicted with terminal illness, and I understood his point. Still, he also struck me as a bit of a revolutionary, for his greatest hope was to awaken the Q to the fact that immortality had cost them their freedom and their passion.

By the end of our meeting, I determined that he was, in my opinion, of a sound mind. He was not depressed, psychotic, or otherwise mentally ill inasmuch as my assessment could define mental illness.

Quinn was quite pleased with the outcome of his assessment, but he did not leave after I released him from session. Instead, he tilted his head and studied me very closely.

I smiled at him. “What is it?”

“You, Talia. You have so many questions— big questions, as well as the trivial ones.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “I do?”

“Yes. And in return for what you have done for me, I would like to repay you with some answers.”

I shook my head. “No, Q, please— you don’t have to do anything—“

“But I want to. Please.”

“Q, I cannot accept gifts from clients. It would be unethical.”

He nodded. “Right. Well, in that case, I suppose that I will simply leave you with some advice... as a friend.”

I sighed. He wasn’t going to let this go, so I relented with a nod.

Quinn gazed into my eyes with earnest compassion. “There is much you have to learn on this journey about who you are, where you belong, and what your purpose will be. But I can tell you that right now, at this very moment, there is an opportunity presenting itself to you that you cannot afford to pass over.”

“Oh? And what might that be?”

“Harry Kim.”

My mouth fell open, and I forced it shut again. Clearing my throat, I did my best to inject some professionalism back into my affect.

“Now, I’m not saying you should ask him to dinner tonight or anything. I know you haven’t made up your mind about him yet, and that’s fine. Take your time. But I don’t want you to be afraid of your feelings for him.”

The room fell silent for several seconds as Quinn waited for me to say something. “Honestly, Q, I don’t know how to respond.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep what I said in mind.”

I nodded. “I will. Thank you, Q.”

“No,” he said, “thank you.” Then, in a flash, he was gone.

* * *

Counselor's Log: Stardate 49301.5

Early this morning, the Q liaison provided Quinn with a lethal dose of Nogatch hemlock, which Quinn ingested. He passed away at 0735 hours. Quinn’s final words prior to his death were, “This is my final gift to my people.”

I stand by my belief, and Captain Janeway's judgement, that free choice in life and death was his own right. I am glad that he has found the peace he was looking for, and that he is no longer suffering.

After Quinn’s death, Q stated that Quinn had inspired him to reclaim a piece of his former free-spirited self. He then said that he would be seeing us again.

I can't quite decide if that's a good or bad thing.


	14. Love and War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager has a spy, so Captain Janeway recruits Tom and Talia to help flush him out. As they bond over their duplicity, Tom calls Talia out on her feelings for Harry. Meanwhile, Talia is making her own observations on another budding ship-board romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 2x20 "Investigations"

Counselor's Log, Stardate 49356.0

Crew morale has continued to slip lower as we endure frequent attacks by the Kazon. Damage to the ship isn't catastrophic, but stress is high and nerves are getting frayed. Thankfully, most of the injuries have been minor, and we haven't lost anyone since Kurt was killed nearly two weeks ago. Still, everyone is on edge wondering when we're going to lose someone else.

* * *

"Thank you for coming, Commander," Captain Janeway said as I took a seat in front of her desk. Tuvok stood behind her, stoic as usual. "What we're about to tell you cannot under any circumstances leave this room. Do you understand?"

I nodded. "Yes, Captain."

Tuvok explained the situation. "I have recently discovered evidence of covert transmissions leaving _Voyager_ through the EPS system. Further investigation has lead me to conclude that someone on this ship is communicating with the Kazon-Nistrim."

My eyes widened. "Have you been able to identify who is sending these transmissions?"

Janeway shook her head. "We've tried to find the culprit using every conventional method, but whoever it is has been covering their tracks very well. So, we've come up with a new plan, and we'd like your help."

"Of course. What can I do?"

Janeway folded her hands. "We're going to put Mister Paris off the ship."

"You— _what_?"

"We have asked Lieutenant Paris to act insubordinate,” Tuvok explained, “so that when an opportunity arises for him to find employment elsewhere, the crew will believe that he is leaving of his own volition." He paused, testing me like Marnah used to.

"If Tom leaves," I reasoned, "Seska will want to snatch him so she can convince him to sell us out. And if he can sweet-talk his way into her good graces, then he can tap into their com system to find out the spy."

"Precisely."

"So, you want me to play along with his act."

Janeway nodded. "File reports, force him into counseling, get into an argument in the corridor, whatever you think will convince the crew of this ruse."

I grinned. "I think we can handle that."

"I also wanted to ask for your opinion on whether or not we should include Commander Chakotay in this. Tuvok believes we should leave him out of the loop, as we suspect it may be one of the former Maquis who is contacting Seska. What do you think?"

I pressed my lips together, considering the alternatives. "While I tend to agree with Tuvok's judgement, my inclination here is to include Chakotay in the plan. I think he would see it as a stab in the back for you not to trust him in his duty as your first officer, after how hard he's worked for you over the last year."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "Would he be capable of maintaining the ruse? He will undoubtedly be on the receiving end of Lieutenant Paris' disrespectful behavior."

Glancing from Tuvok to Janeway, I gave a firm nod. "He can handle it. Keep him on your side, Captain. You won't regret it."

* * *

"Why don't we make it interesting this time?" Tom suggested to Harry, having just lost a game of pool at Sandrine’s. "Let's add some table stakes."

"What kind of stakes?"

"Couple of replicator rations, maybe?"

I shook my head. "That's not a very subtle hustle, Tom."

"Wait," Harry said, turning to me. "Are you saying he deliberately let me win?"

"That would be dishonest, Harry," Tom cooed.

Harry puffed his chest. "I won that game, and I'll beat you again."

"How many rations are you willing to bet on that?" Tom challenged.

Some of the other crew members nearby started shouting their encouragements at Harry, but I shook my head. "Is this really how you want to treat your best friend, Tom?"

Tom shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about, Tal."

"Harry," I said, "if anyone ever says to you, 'let's make it interesting,' you should probably leave the game."

Tom laughed. "Okay, she's got a point there. You want some action? How about an honest game of chance?"

I rolled my eyes. "Right. Honest."

"Oh come on, Tal. You get promoted and suddenly you're no fun anymore."

I put up my hands in mock surrender and walked away from the table a few paces.

Tom turned back to Harry. "This one is simple. One replicator ration is all it takes to play, and the only thing you have to do to win is pick a number. Just predict what the radiogenic particle count will be at twelve hundred hours tomorrow, and if you hit, the pot is yours. Minus a small handling fee for the bank, of course."

Quicker than I could groan, the room burst into shouts of crew wanting in on the lottery. Tom had Harry take out a PADD, and before I knew it, he had organized _Voyager's_ first gambling ring.

After that, I decided to find other ways to fill my evenings.

* * *

Lon Suder had found a hobby.

For a few weeks, he and I had been exploring possible hobbies he could pursue on the ship. We had spent the previous week with Kes in the airponics bay, and Lon took to it right away. Not only was he fascinated by the plants, but Kes was able to build an easy rapport with him. By the end of the session, Kes suggested that Lon should explore the botany lab with Tuvok, who was very knowledgeable about the subject and— believe it or not— more sociable than Dr. Klegglachen. Lon was hesitant to agree, still harboring some resentment against Tuvok for spying on us in the Maquis, but Kes convinced him to try it anyway.

A week later, we were in the botany lab. I smiled watching Kes and Tuvok draw Lon out of his shell. They showed him how to use the equipment in the lab and explained to him all the things he could do with plants here. As they examined plant cells under the microviewer, the topic shifted briefly to meditation practices, and Tuvok offered to teach Lon how to use a Vulcan meditation candle. Lon glanced back at me, and I nodded at him approvingly.

Sometimes— often times— the best therapy would occur beyond the walls of my office. It came in the form of discovering something new and fascinating, or in the kindness of a person willing to look past the surface and see the potential underneath. The thing about my job was that, at the end of the day, my goal was to see my patients stand on their own and learn how to walk through life without my help. All I did was start the puzzle and show them how to put the pieces together; in time, they gained the confidence to keep working at it on their own. Lon was beginning to do just that, and I was so proud to see it happen.

* * *

Harry and I were the first to arrive for our usual dinner with Tom. When I asked him how he was doing, he glanced around the mess hall, then leaned in towards me. "This radiogenic particle game is killing me. Nobody's won all week. Tom said he's not even gonna come to dinner tonight because he's eating steak in his quarters instead. I'm starting to think maybe you were right about not playing."

"So? Stop playing."

"Are you kidding me? I've got almost a week's worth of rations in there! Eventually, someone's got to get lucky. But, I'll say this: as soon as that pot gets claimed, I'm out. Never again."

"Uh-huh," I muttered skeptically.

After dinner, when Harry went to meet his fellow lottery players on the holodeck, I went straight to Chakotay's office to tip him off to what Tom was doing.

* * *

" _You_ did this?!" Tom hissed, storming up to my table in the mess hall while I ate breakfast.

"You were in violation of policy," I replied, putting down the report I had been studying and taking a sip of my coffee.

Tom threw his hands in the air and huffed. "I can't believe you did this. I mean, I know you've been trying to take your promotion seriously and all, but what the hell, Tal? You and I used to pull shit like that all the time at the academy!"

"Yeah, well, this isn't the academy, Tom. Grow up."

"Oh, come on! It was just a little harmless fun."

"You were conning your fellow crewmen out of rations."

"It was not a con! You can look at the program yourself. It was completely fair."

"The crew didn't seem to think so. I was starting to get complaints." I picked up my PADD and resumed my survey of the report. "Besides, it's in Chakotay's hands now. If you have a problem, take it up with him."

He yanked the PADD out of my hand, slammed it on the table, and leaned down close to my face, drawing nearly every eye in the room to us. "Don't you get it? I have a problem with you. I thought you were my friend, Tal. I thought you were in my corner. But, lately, you've been acting more and more like him. Are you sleeping with him again or something?"

"This discussion is over," I snapped, grabbing for my PADD.

Tom pinned it under his hand. "Did he finally say those three words you've been dying to hear ever since you first laid eyes on his… face?"

I glared. "Lieutenant, I suggest you get the hell out of _my_ face, or you'll have a lot worse than a report coming."

He straightened his back, dropped his hands to his sides, and shook his head. "As you wish, Commander." With that, he walked out.

* * *

That night, Chakotay returned to his quarters to find me sitting outside his door, crying. It wasn’t a heavily populated deck, but a few people milled about. All it took was one or two seeing us to start a rumor.

He knelt in front of me. “Talia? What happened?”

I ran the back of my hand across my cheeks and sniffled. “Tom,” I choked out.

Realizing that this was part of the ruse, he took my hands and spoke gently. “I heard about that. I’m sorry. I can discipline him if you want—“

I shook my head. “No. I don’t want this to be a bigger deal than it has to be, I just— I didn’t know who else to talk to, and I...” I paused, looked at him, and dropped my voice to a low murmur. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Giving my hands a squeeze, Chakotay muttered a quiet, “Come on,” as he helped me to my feet and guided me inside. As soon as the doors shut behind us, he released my hands and disappeared into the head. A moment later, he returned with tissues. “How the hell do you do that?”

I laughed, sniffled, and mopped my face. “What, cry on cue? It comes in handy more often than you might think. Got my brother into trouble for shit I did, got me out of trouble with profs, got free drinks, ill-advised sex... you name it. People are suckers.”

“Wow. And how exactly did you decide to be a counselor— you know, to help people?”

“What, so we all have to be overly-sensitive saints?”

“Isn’t that part of the entrance exam or something?”

I wadded up the used tissues and dropped them into his hand. “Nope.”

Chakotay’s face twisted in disgust.

I laughed, swiped them from him, and offered him my pocket sanitizer. The device hummed as he activated it and ran the beam over his hands. I took the tissues to his replicator and recycled them. When I returned, he handed the sanitizer to me, and I treated my own hands before putting it back inside my jacket.

“You’re a real asshole, you know,” Chakotay said.

I smiled. “Yep, I know.”

He chuckled. “Tea?”

“Yes, please. Vul—“

“Vulcan spice. I remember.” He turned towards the replicator. “Although, at this hour, you should be drinking camomile.”

I slumped onto his couch. “Nah, I’m fine.”

He paused to throw a pointed look over his shoulder.

I sighed. “Alright, fine. Camomile it is.”

Smiling victoriously, he put in the order, returned with two cups of camomile tea, and settled into an adjacent chair.

I blew across the surface of the hot liquid. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I took a sharp breath. “How are you doing?”

“Who’s asking? Ship’s counselor, or my friend?”

“Your friend, Tay. Of course.”

He took a sip of tea. “Had to make sure.”

No, he really didn’t. But I kept that retort to myself.

“Honestly,” he added, “it doesn’t make much difference. Either way, I know what you’re after, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not after anything you don’t want to tell me. We are still friends, right?”

Chakotay frowned. “Of course.”

“Friends check in on each other. It’s the least I can do, after—“ I hung my head. “Never mind.”

His hesitation to respond let me know that he had been hurt, after all, by my suggestion to the captain that we abandon him to Seska. I had broken the code.

“You did the right thing,” he said. “It was what I asked you all to do.”

“But it wasn’t what you expected me to do.”

Chakotay shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

For a long while, we sipped our tea in silence.

“We keep ending up here,” Chakotay said, “late night in my quarters, drinking tea and commiserating together.”

I huffed a laugh. “Yeah. But don’t expect it to end like last time. Tonight, I’m only _pretending_ to sleep with you.”

He grinned, drawing out those adorable dimples in his cheeks. “Do I get a say in who I pretend to sleep with tonight?”

“Well, it’s either me or your right hand.”

Chakotay did his best impression of a hurt look, but it gave way to laughter. “Touché.”

“Meh, I’m no better off than you are.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Harry lately.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And?”

He sipped his tea. “Nothing. Just making an observation.”

“Mmhm.”

I was tempted to jab him back, but I thought better of it. More than anything, I wanted for him to be happy. It was too soon to tease him about Captain Janeway; I didn’t want to scare him off of her. So, I let him win that round.

“It’s better this way, I think,” Chakotay mused. “Even if it’s hard being alone sometimes. I thought that we were happy— you and I— but you were right to end it. We weren’t happy. We were just... self-medicating.”

“Yeah.”

He set the cup down. “I’ll be honest— I’ve been better. Having that message play in front of everyone on the bridge...” He sighed.

“It must have been so humiliating,” I murmured.

“It wasn’t my proudest moment.” He looked at me, the pain apparent in his dark eyes. “I don’t know what to think... what to do.”

“Neither do I.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be your job?”

“No, it’s not. Besides, I’m not your counselor, remember? I’m just a friend.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he exhaled with quiet relief. Reaching across the coffee table, he took my hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

* * *

The next morning, Chakotay and I purposely skipped breakfast. I dressed in my uniform from the day before, striding onto the bridge like I had woken up utterly satisfied— when, in fact, I woke up with an aching back from Chakotay’s couch.

Chakotay pretended not to notice Tom eying us as we took our stations on the bridge, and I gave my friend the dirtiest look I could conjure.

For the entire following week, the only public interaction Tom and I had was giving each other the cold shoulder.

* * *

"I just don't know what to do anymore," Harry lamented as he sat on the couch in my quarters one night. "He pushed you away, he pushed B'Elanna away, and now he's pushing me away, too. What should I do?"

I brought two cups of tea over and sat down next to him, placing them on the coffee table. "There's not much you can do, Harry. This is what he does."

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen this cycle over and over again though all the years I've known him. It's why we were repeatedly breaking up in high school, and it's why I lost contact with him after he was discharged from Starfleet. He's always had this unconscious need to sabotage things and relationships that start getting too stable, to close. There's a lot of different influences that go into it, and I've tried for years to help him, but he's never been able to shake it. He just gets so restless being in the same place for too long, and he's never responded well to living under strict rules."

"But, he seemed to be doing so well here for all these months. And then, out of nowhere, he just... changed."

"I know,” I said sympathetically. "I thought he was doing better, too. I thought maybe he'd finally started to tap into his potential, found the sense of family he didn't have at home." I shook my head and sighed. "Maybe I was being too optimistic."

"No! How can you say that? He needs you to believe in him. Talia, you're the only one who always believed in him, and who made him want to believe in himself. He told me that last year. You can't give up on him. You're the only one who can help him."

"I'm not sure that I can, Harry."

He hung his head.

"Look, I'm not giving up on him, okay? I'll do everything I can. But when you've seen someone repeat the same course of events so many times, you can't help but doubt that they're ever gonna change."

"He can. I know he can. I have to believe he can change."

I rested my hand on his shoulder. "He's very lucky to have a friend like you."

* * *

The next morning, I stepped off the turbolift and onto the bridge a mere forty minutes into Tom's shift. Without a word, I walked around the main deck and down to the con, where Tom managed our course, and I slapped a PADD down on top of his console. It was an official order to begin counseling, but, of course, I couldn't say that.

He looked up at me. "What's this?"

"You've been served, Lieutenant," I muttered before turning and making my way back to the turbolift.

* * *

"You've been served." Tom laughed so hard that tears eked into his eyes. "Where do you come up with this shit, Tal?"

We sat on the floor of Tom's quarters, tossing darts at the board he had nicked from Chakotay's office. I threw a dart and landed on the inner twenty. "I don't know, just pulled it out of my ass, I guess."

"Oh yeah? Can I borrow your ass next time I run out of snarky things to say?"

I laughed, nudged him with my elbow, and rested my head on his shoulder.

He tossed a dart into the twenty-five circle. "So, how's it going with you and Harry?"

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Tal. I know you, and I know how to tell when you're flirting. Though, I've never seen anyone throw you off your game like he does. It makes me wonder..."

Sitting up straight, I grabbed a dart and toyed with it. I felt its weight, its balance. "Wonder what?"

"If you're actually falling in love with this one."

I swiveled towards him, pointing the tip of the dart at his face. "How dare you use that sort of filthy language in front of me! Go wash out your mouth!"

He raised his eyebrows at me. "Well?"

I sighed and threw the dart. "I don't know. It's not like with any of the other people I've dated. He's not like any of the other people I've dated. I like him, but—"

"He's one of the good ones, Tal. He'll never hurt you. Not on purpose."

I shook my head. "It's not that. I'm not afraid of being hurt. I'm afraid that I'll hurt him."

"What do you mean?"

"He's so young and innocent, and he seems like the type to fall really hard and fast. What if he does, and I don't? It's not like I have a great track record. All I usually want from a partner is fun and sex. I don't know how to be in a serious relationship. I'd destroy him, and then I'd never be able to forgive myself."

"Which is exactly why you won't hurt him. Yeah, you like to mess around, but deep down you're too good of a person to do something like that."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

He grasped me by the shoulders, looking straight into my eyes. "I'd bet a year's worth of replicator rations on it."

I laughed. "I'll take that bet."

Clutching his chest, Tom gasped and feigned a look of shock. "What's this? Lt. Commander Eelo, gambling? Isn't that against procedure, or something?"

I rolled my eyes and picked up another dart. "Only when it's a con, flyboy."

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Tuvok informed me that the time had come.  _Voyager_ had detected a Talaxian convoy not far from our location and arranged to rendezvous with them to pick up their newest hire, Tom Paris.

Tom, Chakotay, and I had carefully managed to keep rumors flying around the ship about a volatile love triangle between between us. I made sure to be seen spending inordinate amounts of time with Chakotay, while Tom was constantly initiating pissing contests with him in front of the crew. Secretly, I stored up in my mind every brief moment when Captain Janeway's controlled expression would betray some slight jealousy of the relationship Chakotay and I were pretending to rekindle. Somehow, I doubted that was part of the act.

It wasn't long before Neelix caught wind of Tom's departure. After the captain and Tuvok confirmed the news to him, Neelix made a deeply moving tribute to Tom in the shipwide broadcast he'd begun to host every day. Things quickly became problematic, however, when we got word from the Talaxian convoy that the Kazon-Nistrim had attacked them and abducted Tom. Neelix suspected foul play and started snooping around for a story to break, eventually finding suspicious deletions in the subspace communications logs. Tuvok tried to get him off the case, but he insisted that "it is the duty of a journalist to be independent," and continued searching until he found the deleted transmissions on the computer in Tom's quarters.

No longer trusting Tuvok to take him seriously, he revealed his findings to the entire crew during his next broadcast. As soon as it aired, Captain Janeway immediately sent Tuvok to bring Neelix into her ready room, and asked me to join her there.

"How did you trace those transmissions to Tom's quarters?" she asked the eager reporter once he arrived.

"It was, er, I believe it was called signal correlation trace," he replied, excited to finally be taken seriously. "Mister Hogan was helping me, and he detected them."

Tuvok looked at Janeway. "When I looked for signal correlation traces, there were none. That means someone placed them in the system after my initial investigation."

"Initial investigation?" Neelix asked. "What's going on?"

"There has been a spy aboard _Voyager_ ," Janeway confirmed, "but it isn't Tom Paris."

Neelix's excitement instantly gave way to confusion. "It isn't?"

"No," Tuvok replied. "Lieutenant Paris is in fact part of our plan."

"Your plan?"

Janeway circled around her desk and walked up to the upper deck of her office, where she rested her forearms on the railing next to where I stood. She explained the situation to Neelix, and told him how Chakotay, Tom, and I had created drama to help them uncover the spy.

He nodded slowly as he processed the revelation. "I see," he mumbled, looking more than a little embarrassed and ashamed of himself.

Janeway continued. "Now, it seems that your investigation has made someone nervous. Nervous enough to put a trail in the computer system for him to follow. The spy may be a little cozy now, since you took the bait and pointed the finger at Tom. But, we don't want him cozy. I'd rather he feel some pressure."

Tuvok tilted his head to the side slightly. "Perhaps we should take advantage of Mister Neelix's unintentional blunder."

"Exactly," she agreed. "I want you to keep investigating, Neelix. Do what you've been doing. Poke around, ask questions. But let people think you're not so sure you were right about Tom Paris."

I shifted my weight off of the rail behind me and took a step forward. "That could put Neelix in some real danger, Captain."

Neelix stood, determination filling his face. "I want to do it. Anything I can do to help, and get Tom home safely, I will to do."

* * *

Counselor's Log, Supplemental

Both Tom and Neelix separately figured out that the spy was, in fact, one of our old Maquis comrades— Crewman Michael Jonas. When Neelix caught him trying to sabotage the ship from engineering, a fight ensued that resulted in Jonas falling over the railing in upper into a plasma fire below, vaporizing him.

Tom escaped from the Kazon and returned to the ship, a bit worse for wear but back to his regular self. Neelix plans to interview Tom for his next broadcast, so he can have a chance to explain himself to the crew.

* * *

That evening, I stood once again in front of those familiar doors on deck three and tapped on the chime. "Come in," Chakotay beckoned from the other side. As soon as he saw me, he quirked his lips to one side. "Are we still trying to deceive the crew?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Actually, I just stopped by to bring you a peace offering." I brought my left arm out from behind my back, revealing an ornate, unopened bottle of wine.

He came to meet me at the door, his dimples emerging as he took the bottle from my hand. "Where did you get this?"

"You cannot tell Tom this, not ever, because he'll drink it all. But, I traded stories about Marnah to a vine keeper on Sikaris for two cases of this stuff."

His eyes widened. "Two _cases_?"

"Yeah, I have it stashed in my quarters. No one knows except Harry, and now you."

He chuckled and shook his head. "You always find new ways to surprise me. But, you didn't need to give me a peace offering. It hasn't bothered me to spend more time with you lately. It's been nice, actually, being friends again."

I wrapped my hand around his and gave it a squeeze. "It truly has been, Tay. But, the peace offering isn't for you." Releasing his hand, I gestured towards the corridor outside. "It's for her."

His brow furrowed slightly with confusion. He didn't realize that I had already figured out how he felt about Kathryn Janeway, didn't see the way she had watched us together as we pretended for the crew, didn't know how I had been observing them getting caught in each other's orbit. My mouth curved up softly at the corners. "I think she'll enjoy the vintage, and the company."

Then, a sweet smile began playing on his lips as he stared down at the bottle. Perhaps he was imaging the look on her face when he showed up at her door with it. His eyes found mine, and I winked at him teasingly. "Goodnight, Chakotay."

"Goodnight, Talia," he replied as I walked out the door.

* * *

 ~~~~From there, I made my way up to Harry's quarters on deck two. He was practicing his clarinet when I arrived. "You're early," he said when I walked in. "Tom's not meeting us for another thirty minutes."

I nodded as I leaned my hip against the back of a chair. "I know. I just didn't feel like being alone. Do you mind?"

He welcomed me with that beautiful, warm smile of his. "No, of course not. Do you want anything to drink?"

I couldn't help but smile back. "No, thank you. Please, don't let me keep you from your practice. Play something for me."

"Okay," he said, flipping through the pages of music on his stand. "Oh! Here. I like this one."

At first, while he played the sonata he had selected, I studied him like I often do when I watch people. I found the patterns in his art, how he channeled his breath into the instrument, how his fingers guided the notes that flowed out, how his right foot kept the tempo, how his body swayed with the movements of the music, how his eyes moved across the page and made the symbols into something ineffable by infusing them with the air in his lungs. He played the clarinet like I flew a spacecraft, making it an extension of his own self through which he could enter into another state of being.

After a while, I allowed my eyes to close, letting the music move over me like a lover in the night. When I opened my eyes again, after he finished the piece, I found him smiling at me with pleasure.

"I take it you liked the song?"

The smile overtook my features before I could even think about it, bringing a rush of blood to my face. "Yes, I did. It was beautiful, Harry. Thank you for playing that for me."

He set the instrument on its stand and looked down at his sheet music bashfully. "It's nothing. I actually enjoy playing for people, but Tom's not so into classical music."

"No, just twentieth century rock and roll for him." I paused. "You can play for me whenever you want. I'll listen to you anytime."

He smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

It only took a few seconds for me to fold under his gaze. I looked at the floor. _Damnit, Talia. What's the matter with you? You've done this a million times. Do what you came here to do._ I took a deep breath and started to speak just as he did the same. We looked at each other awkwardly, pink hues tingeing both our faces with embarrassment.

"Sorry," he said. "You go."

"No, please," I insisted. "You first."

He nodded slowly and took a deep breath, looking just as anxious as I felt. "I was just… wondering… if you would want to… have dinner with me this weekend." He paused for a moment, then added, "just us," to clarify what he meant.

I beamed, every atom in my body suddenly full of light. "Yes," I breathed. "I'd like that a lot."

We stood in place grinning at each other like fools for a long moment. We were frozen in time, absorbing within each of us the excitement we felt after all these weeks of hesitation and crushes. Then, just as suddenly as time had stopped around us, it began to move again. Neither one of us could think of what to say or do other than the one thing we'd been dying to do the whole time.

I cleared my throat and looked at my feet. "It's, um, it's funny you asked, actually, because I—" He strode across the room, closing the distance between us, and I looked up just as he reached me. "I didn't come here early just because I wanted some company," I murmured.

Suddenly, his lips were on mine, soft and warm and everything I wanted. My hands snaked up his chest and into his soft hair, while his circled around my waist to pull my body tightly against his. I could feel his nerves give way to hunger for me, the tension between us now broken and swept away by our momentum. I responded in kind, sweeping my tongue into his mouth.

I don't know how long we stayed like that. After a while, we slowed and then broke apart, resting our foreheads against one another. "We should probably get going.” His voice was raspy.

I nodded, unable to contain my grin. "Probably so."

He pulled back and studied my face for several seconds, playing with my earring before tracing a finger down my cheek. Dropping his hand, he laced his fingers with mine and held onto me as we made our way down to Sandrine's together.


	15. Schmullis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager answers the distress signal of a very sick Vidiian woman, named Denara Pel. The doctor experiences falling in love for the first time as he treats the woman, and the crew begin to realize that both Denara and their EMH are far more human than they had previously thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episodes Referenced: VOY 2x19 "Lifesigns"

At the beginning of our journey, Harry seemed so shy when it came to flirting. He was a bold and fierce friend, to be sure, but sexual tension made him hesitate. I knew he had a girlfriend back on Earth, but how exactly had their relationship developed? I asked him once, and all he could say was that “it just felt right.”

On my first date with Harry, I began to grasp— albeit loosely— what he meant.

The evening was, in a word, perfection. I could see Tom's fingerprints all over it, but it was also clear that Harry had done most of the planning. I never asked, but I suspected that Tom had been encouraging Harry to pursue me romantically, and giving Harry advice on how to impress me.

For the date, Harry brought me to Sandrine's for dinner, empty of the holocharacters that were usually part of the program. The pool table had been removed to make room for a dance floor, and the musical playlist featured the best of the crooners from Earth's 1930's and '40's jazz lounge scene. He had worked with Neelix on a dinner menu that was suspiciously to my liking— not a single hint of leola root in sight. Our table was dressed up with a white tablecloth, candles, and a small vase of scarlet roses in the middle.

Harry cleaned up nicely in black slacks, a white button down shirt left casually open at the top, and a gray sport jacket with a red pocket square.

I wore a sinuous, glittering, emerald green cocktail dress with long sleeves and a deep v-neckline that made his eyes pop when he saw me. The green of the dress made my copper-red hair stand out as it fell a few inches past my shoulders in waves, loosed from the low ponytail I usually kept it in.

As we cleaned the last bites of soufflé from our shared dessert dish, Harry asked to hear stories of my childhood on the  _Hepburn_. I amused him with one about my older brother stealing our baby sister's favorite plush puppy.

"At first," I said, "he tried hiding it in our quarters, but she found it quickly and yelled at him to never touch her things. So, naturally, he stole it again. This time, he hid it behind a panel in one of the turbolifts. None of us could find it for two days. My parents had to threaten him with a month of grounding from the holodeck before he finally fessed up. Deb cried the whole time."

His face was bright with laughter. "Wow. How old was she?"

"Oh, god.” I frowned as I thought back. "About five, I think."

He shook his head. "Poor girl."

"Yet you still insist you would have wanted siblings?"

"Well, you're closer now, aren't you?"

"We are. My brother and his wife made me their children's godmother when they were baptized into the church. Of course, my sister being so much younger than Jay and I, our relationship was different with her. But she was always so different from us anyway. Jay and I always knew we wanted to be in Starfleet like our parents, but Deb didn't. She ran off to do her bohemian artist thing as soon as she graduated high school."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. She's always been a free spirit. Typical youngest sibling. By the time she came along, Dad had Jay to be his protégée and Marnah— uh, that is, my mother— had me, so Deb got to do whatever the hell she wanted. Last I heard, she was in Nashville recording music."

"Wow, that's neat.” He smiled. "Your family sounds like a lot of fun."

"They're the best.” I tried to smile, but a tremor in my lower lip weighed it down. An apology started to form in his eyes, and I cleared my throat. “I don’t get to talk about them a lot, so I forget how much I miss them. I haven't seen any of them other than Marnah since I left for Bajor in '69."

Harry reached across the table for my hands, squeezing them gently. "I'm sorry. That's really hard. I kind of know what you mean, though— about missing your family. My parents and I were really close, too."

I returned the squeeze.

Just then, Neelix appeared at the table. "Can I take your plate?"

"Please," Harry said.

I smiled at our host. "Neelix, everything was so delicious. Thank you for doing all of this."

His eyes twinkled as he grinned. "It was my pleasure, Commander. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Would you like me to open another bottle of wine for you before I leave?"

I shook my head. "No, I think we'll be fine, thank you."

"Very well, then. Have a good night, you two." He winked at us before leaving the holodeck with Kes helping him carry the last of our dishes.

Just after he left, the playlist switched to one of my very favorite songs— ‘ _I've Got You Under My Skin_ ’ by Frank Sinatra. I smiled at Harry. "Did Tom program the playlist for you?"

Harry shrugged coyly. "He may have lent a hand."

"He knows my weaknesses. I love this song."

"Care for a dance?"

"I'd love to," I said, holding out my hand. He stood and took it in his, leading me out onto the dance floor and sweeping me into a swinging rhythm.

"You're a good dancer," I observed after several steps.

"So are you. I hear you do a good version of this song in karaoke."

"Well, I don't want to brag, but I am really good at karaoke.”

"We should do a karaoke night with the crew sometime."

"Oh, that would be fun!"

The adoration in his eyes was disarming, and I submerged myself in it. The lyrics of the song reverberated all the way into my bones, and I soon found myself singing along.

" _I would sacrifice anything, come what might, for_ _the sake of having you near, in_ _spite of the warning voice that comes in the night a_ _nd repeats, repeats in my ear—_ "

His mouth quirked into a smile, and I felt my own lips curl upward in response. "I'm not as musical as my sister," I admitted, "but I can carry a tune."

"I could listen to you sing all night."

Softly, he stroked my thumb with his, our hands still clasped for the dance. The touch sent a flash of heat through me, aggravating a strange mix of feelings that twisted in my belly. His words could have easily been a line, but somehow I knew he was entirely sincere.

There was no explaining it; I just knew.

I blew a sharp breath between parted lips. Never before had I hesitated to take charge of situations when I wanted something. I knew how to wield my power over men, both for pleasure and intimidation. But Tom was right— I had no desire to use that against Harry. His advances were tender and pure, which was the very thing that disarmed me. We weren't in competition for power or control.

So, what were we?

"I didn't exactly ask for your permission before," he admitted, "but I'd really like to kiss you now, if you'll let me."

The request rippled through me with a shiver. Wetting my lips, I consented with a single nod.

As the music swelled, Harry lowered his mouth to mine. The kiss was feather-light, and it ended much too soon. I was about to be frustrated with him when, instead of pulling away, he painted kisses outward across my cheek and down along my jaw.

The move made my insides twist with an entirely new feeling that I didn't know how to name. My breath escaped on a sigh as his perfect lips dragged like velvet against my skin.

Suddenly, Harry pulled away from me. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry. I got a little carried away. It's supposed to be a first date, but it feels—"

I smiled. "I know. I don't mind."

His hand tightened on my waist, pulling me closer. This time, the kiss was deep and slow and liquid-smooth like the wine that lingered on our tangling tongues. Releasing our clasped hands, we began to explore one another in earnest.

It was a new and strange hunger that crept inside my belly that night. Sure as I was of my attraction towards him, my next move would have normally been to invite him back to my place— or to simply drag him to the nearest table. But, something was growing between us that felt like uncharted territory, and I didn't want to rush it. Since the beginning of our journey on _Voyager_ , Harry had become one of my closest friends; I needed to know that I was falling in love with him before we crossed that line.

The problem was, I wasn't sure that I knew what it felt like to really be in love.

* * *

A little over a week later, we answered the distress call of a Vidiian woman. She had been alone on a shuttle heading to a remote colony when we found her, unconscious and near death. No one knew what to expect from her if she woke, but it was our duty to render aid when it was requested.

Even if it meant saving the life of an organ-harvester.

Although the woman was in pretty bad shape, the EMH impressed us yet again with his brilliant and innovative programming. The doctor discovered that the woman had a unique implant which stored her synaptic functions. He was able to temporarily preserve her brain activity by downloading her consciousness into a holographic projection of her healthy body. He asked me to be present when he animated her holographic body, and I was astonished at the projection of the woman lying on the bed. None of us had ever seen a healthy Vidiian before, but she really didn't look much different from most humanoid species.

After the EMH transferred her consciousness into the program, the woman awoke with a start. She was utterly shocked to look down and see her skin healthy and smooth. "What have you done to me?"

"I used the undamaged chromosomes in your cerebellum to recreate your original DNA code," the EMH informed her, "and then programmed the computer to project a holographic template based on that genome."

She sat up on the bio bed. "Holographic?"

"It's a three-dimensional computer-generated simulation," I explained, handing a mirror to her so she could see herself.

As the EMH rambled on about the procedure he had performed, the woman examined herself in the mirror, touching her face in disbelief. Her eyes welled up with tears.

I put down my PADD and moved to stand next to her. "Is everything okay?"

The EMH frowned. "Why are you crying? I thought you'd be pleased."

"I am," she insisted as she wiped away a tear. "I just never expected to look healthy again. I've been sick for so long."

I couldn't help but smile at her reaction. "What's your name?"

"Denara," she replied, finally putting the mirror down. "Denara Pel. What's yours?"

"I'm Talia," I said, "and he just goes by Doctor."

"I'll need a complete medical history," the EMH declared, snatching a PADD from the sickbay console. I picked up mine, as well, before he began questioning her. "How long have you been ill exactly?"

"I was first diagnosed with the phage when I was seven," she answered.

"And when did you begin receiving replacement tissue?"

"About that same time."

"How did you feel about that?" I just inquired.

"At first, it was hard to get used to the changes, but it happened so often that, after a while, I almost stopped noticing. I never thought I'd see myself again." She smiled. "Thank you. This is the most extraordinary thing anyone has ever done for me."

"I wouldn't be too grateful," the doctor warned. "There are serious limitations to being a hologram. First of all, we can only exist within environments equipped with holo-emitters, such as sickbay."

The realization of what he had said dawned on her face. "Do you mean you're a—a computer simulation?"

"An incredibly sophisticated computer simulation," he confirmed.

"Denara," I said, redirecting the conversation, "why were you alone on that shuttle?"

"I was helping to treat an outbreak of the phage on Fina Prime. I was on my way back to my home colony, but it's a long journey and my condition got worse."

The EMH looked up from his PADD with interest. "You're a medical practitioner of some kind?"

She nodded. "A hematologist."

He smiled slightly. "Well then, perhaps given your expertise, you can help me with your treatment. Your synaptic patterns will eventually degrade if we don't get them out of the pattern buffers and back into your brain."

"How long?" she asked as she followed him to the console.

"A few days. Perhaps a week. Your real body is in stasis." He lead her to the surgical bay where her natural body was laid out. She winced at the sight of herself, and grew silent. "As you can see," the doctor continued, "we have to find a way to repair your damaged neural tissue."

"Doctor," I interjected, quickly making my way over to her. "Denara. If I may, I'd like to ask you a few questions of my own."

The EMH pursed his lips, his wind taken out of him, but he acquiesced. "Very well. I'll be in my office researching treatment options."

"Would you rather that we talk over by the other beds?" I asked after he left the room.

She gave me a forced smile and nodded. After we took seats opposite one another on neighboring bio beds, she was the first to speak. "Well," she said, "I would imagine that your culture's idea of a counselor is very different from mine. What is it that you do?"

"My area of expertise is humanoid psychology," I replied. "My primary functions are to oversee the emotional and mental health of anyone on board the ship. Mostly, I do this through counseling, wherein I meet with a patient and have a conversation with them that allows me to determine whether they may be suffering from any kind of psychological distress or illness. As a secondary function, I can also serve as a diplomatic advisor to the command staff, as I have extensive training in observing behavioral patterns and analyzing the processes behind those patterns."

"That's incredible," she said with wonderment. "We don't have anything like that in our culture."

"You said you have counselors of another kind, though. What do they do?"

"Mostly, they meet with patients and manage their files, and advise them about doctors and treatments. They have some training in psychology so they can help patients understand and cope with their own condition or the condition of a loved one, but they mainly focus on guiding patients through the healthcare process."

I nodded. "We actually have something similar to that in Terran culture. We call them social workers. Our ship doesn't employ one, so some of that falls onto me, but many larger ships do."

"I'd love to learn more about your culture and its healthcare practices," she said sincerely. "I imagine if my people weren't so obsessed with treating and curing the phage, we might be similar. As it is, most Vidiians consider psychological health to be a luxury that we can't afford to spend resources on when there is so much physical suffering."

"I understand. I can only imagine what it must be like. I noticed you reacted pretty severely to seeing your natural body in the surgical bay after having accepted your holographic appearance. Would you be willing to elaborate on why that was so jarring for you?"

As we talked, I not only came to know Denara's beautiful soul, but I also came to a deeper understanding of her people and the way that centuries of incurable suffering had fundamentally shaped their social psychology. The more I listened, the more I struggled to reign in my emotions and remain neutral.

I was also struck by how compassionate and empathetic she was as an individual. Understandably, she exhibited symptoms of generalized anxiety and depression, but she was an overall very highly adjusted individual considering everything she had been through and seen. I noted that traits like compassion and empathy seemed to be considered hinderances to her people— an observation that she confirmed— and I wondered at how she had managed to cope with the hard realities of her career as someone who displayed both characteristics so strongly.

"I have learned how to use them as a way to help me better understand my patients," she told me. "I have to constantly remind myself to stay professional, and to consider the larger goals of what I do, rather than becoming overly involved each patient's situation. But, most of my people tend to get so caught up in the big picture that they overlook the individuals who make up our society. I think that having a greater understanding of individual lives would change the way we approach our goals, and make things better for everyone."

I smiled at her. "Denara, have you ever considered becoming a social advocate?"

* * *

Counselor’s Log, supplemental.

B’Elanna agreed to donate some of her brain tissue to graft into Denara’s brain. Evidently, Klingon DNA is highly resistant to the Phage. The tissue our EME collected will need some time to grow before he can perform the surgery. For now, Denara is enjoying her holographic body.

* * *

Chez Sandrine's always had a romantic feel about it, no matter what the patrons were doing. Even so, the mood seemed to deepen when the EMH walked in with Denara on his arm and a goofy grin on his face. Tom and Harry were too busy were too busy trying to beat Chakotay and Neelix at a game of pool to notice, but I could see right away that something was going on between them.

"Hey," I said as leaned over to B'Elanna, who was sitting next to me watching the game. "I’m seeing some anomalous readings at three-ten-mark-zero."

She glanced at the table where the couple sat, frowning at a holocharacter. "So?"

"You don't see it? They like each other."

She snorted. "That's not possible. The doctor's programming doesn't include romance."

"Is it possible that he may have begun to surpass his original programming?"

She watched them for a long moment, considering the option. Then, she cracked an amused smile. "Actually, Talia, I think you might be right."

* * *

As it turned out, my observation to B'Elanna was prophetic.

The next night, Sandrine's was a fair bit quieter. Tom and I were sitting at a table by the bar, drinking tea and wasting time, when the EMH appeared in the room.

"Doc," Tom greeted. "What brings you here? Is somebody sick?"

"Actually, Mister Paris, I was looking for you.” He nodded at me. "Hello, Commander. Where is your counterpart this evening?"

I smiled. "Harry's on bridge watch tonight. Would you like me to excuse myself?"

"No, actually, you may be of some assistance.”

"Pull up a chair," Tom invited, gesturing for him to join us.

The EMH seemed nervous as he took the seat across from me and Tom. "Mister Paris, I assume you've had a great deal of experience being rejected by women."

Tom snorted. "Oh, thanks a lot, Doc.”

I nodded my head and mouthed, ‘ _a lot_.’

The doctor looked nonplussed. "What I'd like to know is, what does one do to recover from the unpleasant symptoms of romantic rejection?"

"Why the sudden interest in romance?" Tom asked.

"I can't tell you.” The EMH raised his chin slightly. “It's a matter of doctor-patient confidentiality.”

"Ah," Tom said as he stood to pour himself more tea at the bar. "All right. Well, let's see. Sometimes there's not a lot you can do to get over a woman you really care about. I remember when Susie Crabtree dumped me back in my first year at the academy. I broke out in hives. Couldn't get out of bed for a week. I almost failed Stellar Cartography. I walked around in a daze for the rest of that year."

"Yeah," I mumbled, thinking back to his ill-fated romance with my first roommate. "That was a bad year."

"Of course," Tom continued, "the first one is always the hardest to get over. But, eventually, you start thinking about her less and less until finally, without realizing it, she's not on your mind anymore."

The EMH looked hopeful. "So, the symptoms _do_ subside over time?"

"Doctor," I interjected, "you're approaching this like a medical problem, when it's actually an emotional one. Symptoms can be treated with a hypospray, but emotions have to be wrestled with. They’re a lot messier, and a lot more abstract."

"I don't understand. How does one ' _wrestle with_ ’ an emotion?"

"You need to face your feelings. Acknowledge their existence and accept the circumstances that lead you to feel them. Then, you need to decide whether or not to do something about those circumstances. After that, you make a conscious effort to move forward rather than letting yourself get stuck in them."

"Wait a minute, Doc," Tom said. "We're not talking about _you_ , are we?"

Although the doctor hesitated to admit it, he was in psychological pain. When his only response to Tom’s question was to hang his head, we all knew there was no hiding the truth anymore.

He had romantic feelings for Denara.

The EMH told us about the previous evening, which he spent with her. They had a stimulating conversation, and she appreciated his humor like no one else ever had. She gave him a name that night— Schmullis, after an uncle who used to make her laugh.

Then, the doctor explained how awkward things got between them upon returning to sickbay. They bid each other goodnight, and he shut down her program in order to give her neural energy a rest. Yet once she vanished, he couldn't stop thinking about her.

He recalled a conversation with Kes the next morning, in which she pointed out that he was probably attracted to Denara. Kes suggested that the EMH simply tell Denara how he felt.

And then he followed Kes's advice by bluntly revealing his feelings to Denara in the midst of performing surgery on Denara’s body together.

Naturally, this blindsided Denara. " _I think it's best if we keep our relationship professional_ ," she insisted.

When the EMH finished explaining his situation, Tom sighed and shook his head. "Wow, Doc. That’s... something. But it sounds to me like she might just be shy. I think you scared her off."

The doctor's eyes lit up. "I did?"

"Your approach is all wrong."

"Well, what would be the right approach?"

"Most women like romance. They want men to make an effort, take them some place special."

The EMH looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. He turned back to Tom. "Where would I take her?"

Tom deactivated Sandrine's and created a new holoprogram. Soon, we were standing on top of Martian landscape, overlooking one of the colonies. Parked next to us was a mid-twentieth century convertible sports car. Tom showed the EMH how to use the radio for playing music. He suggested that the doctor could study astronomical charts of the Martian night sky, so he could point out some of the planets and constellations to Denara.

The EMH nodded. "Very well, I'll download the necessary charts."

"And make sure you have a gift of some kind to give her when she arrives."

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know, roses, chocolates, a teddy bear… that sort of thing."

"I see. All right. Anything else?"

Tom glanced at me, and I wagged my eyebrows suggestively. He looked back at the EMH. "Doc, have you ever thought about altering your program to include… sexual functions?"

The EMH frowned. "I never considered it to be necessary. Why? Do you think I should?"

I shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt to be prepared. You know, just in case things go that way."

He gave a firm nod. "I'll make the necessary alterations."

"Oh, but please don't go blurting out to her what you've done," I quickly added. "You don't want to scare her off again, and a lot of people aren't comfortable having sex on a first date. Especially if they're shy. Just take it slow. You know? Keep it organic."

"Organic?"

"Let it flow naturally," Tom explained. "Don't push her to do anything she's not comfortable with. Let her be the one in control of the date."

Again, Doc nodded. "I understand."

* * *

Our advice was, evidently, quite helpful.

Twenty-four hours later, the EMH and Denara were on their date. The morning after, they were practically floating around sickbay. Even after Denara’s brain graft was complete and her consciousness transferred back into her biological body, the pair were inseparable for the following two weeks as _Voyager_ traveled towards Denara’s home colony.

As the time to say good-bye to Denara drew closer, Harry, Tom, and I completed a new hologram simulating a karaoke bar near Starfleet Academy's main campus called Annie's Shaken and Slurred. We worked with Neelix and Chakotay to plan a crew karaoke night before Denara's departure from _Voyager_ , and we helped the EMH come up with a plan for something romantic to do for the woman he had come to love.

Tom and I opened the event, performing an old Earth duet that had been one of our favorites to sing at the real Annie's Bar— called ‘Jackson.’ After we finished our song, we turned the mic over to the doctor, who nervously took the stage and flawlessly sang ‘The Way You Look Tonight.’ His eyes never once left Denara's.

" _Someday, when I'm awfully low, and_ _the world is cold,_ _I will feel a glow just thinking of you and_ _the way you look tonight.”_

From our seats at the table nearest the side of the stage, Tom and I exchanged a quick glance before each grabbing small devices on the table in front of us, flicking them on to produce a tiny holographic flames, and holding them up in the air. B'Elanna and Harry, who sat on either side of us, did the same, as did Neelix and Kes at the table next to us. Then, one by one, the rest of the crew followed suit.

Denara leaned over to me from where she sat with Neelix and Kes. "What do the flames mean?" she asked.

I smiled at her. "It's an ancient Terran tradition. At concerts, when musicians played a particularly meaningful song, the audience would pull out devices called 'lighters' and hold them in the air to show the performer how much they loved the song."

Her smile shone beautifully, glowing with the radiance of her love, as she sat back in her seat and met the doctor’s eyes once more.

" _With each word, your tenderness grows, t_ _earing my fears apart_ …"

By the time the EMH finished the song, Denara was in tears. He left the stage and returned to his table, tenderly pressing a kiss onto her forehead before taking his seat.

B'Elanna smiled approvingly at Tom, and I leaned into Harry's side as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

The karaoke program ended up being a hit with the crew. Chakotay even convinced Captain Janeway to take a turn, and she surprised us all with a hearty rendition of the ancient Irish folk song, ‘Kelley The Boy From Killane.’

* * *

The following night would be the last one that the EMH and Denara had together. We all left them alone on the holodeck to say good-bye as only the truest of lovers could.

By the time Denara left _Voyager_ , many of the crew had warmed up to her irresistible charm and her gentle soul, and we all learned something about ourselves in the process. The hardest hit by her departure, naturally, was the doctor, who was also by far the most changed by her time with us.

I created a new patient profile then, perhaps the first ever psychological record for a hologram. But, he wasn't just a hologram anymore. True, he was still composed of photons held together by force fields, but Denara's love had made him rise above his programming. She had given him a soul.

As I sat with him in his office, counseling him through his very human heartbreak, I noticed him sliding back into his identity before her. When she was on board, I had envied them both for how easily love had come to them in their innocence, while I struggled to know how to think of my feelings for Harry. Yet, as I talked with him about coping with her departure, I realized that somewhere inside he still believed that he was nothing more than a computer program. I had to stop this digression before he let his grief steal away all that he had gained in the past month, so I told him exactly how I had come to see him since Denara first arrived— as a fully realized person no different from her or from the rest of the crew.

"But, I'm not a person," he insisted. "I'm a computer simulation of a person."

"I think Denara would disagree." I argued, smiling at him supportively. "If you can love, then you are sentient. If you are aware of your sentience, and you can reflect on it and make choices about it, then you have consciousness. If you have consciousness, then you are a person in your own right, no matter what you're made of."

I paused, allowing him to process my statement before I continued. "Doctor, I think you should make it official."

"What do you mean?"

"Ask Captain Janeway to enter the name Denara gave you into the ship's records. She's already created a personnel file for you, when she gave you your rank and position, and you've been building it up quickly with all of the innovative work you've done here. It doesn't do very well for us to call you Lieutenant Doctor EMH, not after Denara has given you your name." Breaking my usual rule against unprofessional displays of affection, I gently laid my hand on top of his. "Accept Denara's gift to you. Honor her memory, and the memory of how her love gave you life. Nothing would make her happier than that."

He considered it for several seconds before finally giving me a nod. "All right," he said. "I will."

I grinned at him proudly. "Welcome aboard, Dr. Schmullis."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The song that Captain Janeway performs at the karaoke bar is actually a song that Kate Mulgrew sang part of in her role on the 1970's soap opera Ryan's Hope. You can look up the clip on YouTube; it's delightful. :)


	16. Bent Not Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to avoid Vidiians, Voyager detours into a plasma drift that duplicates all matter on board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 2x21 Deadlock
> 
> CW: Canon-consistent, temporary death of an infant is mentioned but not shown.

After eighty weeks of pregnancy, Sam Wildman went into labor during a lunch break.

Normally, alpha shift ended at 1600 hours. From there, beta shift would take over, and either Tom or Harry would be in charge of the bridge until zero hour. But once the news spread about Sam’s condition, none of us wanted to leave until we had our biggest question answered—

Who won the betting pool for time and birthweight of baby Wildman?

That was why, even as the chronometer hit 1930 hours, we were all at our stations doing anything productive we could think of to occupy time. I remodulated every sensor on _Voyager_. Captain Janeway paced the bridge. I honestly don’t know what everyone else did. By the time someone broke the silence, I was optimizing star charts with data far beyond what they would ever need.

Tom let out a frustrated sigh. “Oh, this is ridiculous. How long does it take to deliver a baby?”

“Only a baby of the family would ask that,” I teased.

Janeway smiled. “As long as it takes, Mister Paris.”

“Indeed,” Tuvok agreed. “During the birth of our third child, my wife was in labor for ninety-six hours.”

Harry’s eyes bulged. “ _Four days_?”

“I have learned that pregnancy and patience go hand in hand.”

I shuddered, suddenly feeling a new respect for my own mother.

“You know,” Chakotay admitted, “I didn't expect to be this nervous. It's not even my child.”

“In a way, this child belongs to all of us,” the captain said. “It is the first baby born on _Voyager_.” Finally settling into her command chair, Janeway looked to the man seated beside her. “I'm just not sure whether I should be welcoming it on board, or apologizing.”

Chakotay frowned. “Captain?”

“ _Voyager_ isn't exactly anyone's idea of a nursery, and the Delta Quadrant isn't much of a playground.”

“My father had a saying. ‘Home is wherever you happen to be.’”

Janeway’s face lit up with a wide smile, which Chakotay mirrored.

I smiled, as well, encouraged by the apparent strengthening of the bond between our command team. Out of respect, I returned my eyes to the science console. Living on _Voyager_ was like being inside a fishbowl, and— although I had no data to support my hypothesis— I was convinced that the strength of the effect was directly correlated to rank. Any little moment I could give them was a gift.

Tuvok abruptly ended their moment. “Captain, long-range sensors are picking up heavy subspace communications ahead. They're Vidiian.”

“All stop. A ship?”

I scrambled to generate my own sensor readings.

“At least twenty ships within sensor range,” Tuvok confirmed.

“Captain,” I added, “I’ve got a type-G star system with two inhabited planets— all lifesigns are Vidiian.”

“Sounds like we're headed right into their territory,” Chakotay said.

“And I'm in no mood to donate any organs today,” Janeway quipped. “Options?”

“Tom,” I said, “take a look at the plasma drift, coordinates four-zero mark seven. The interference should hide us from their sensors. Think it’s doable?”

Tom tapped the coordinates into his console and nodded. “I see it. The drift extends almost half the length of this sector. Should get us past their system safely.”

Janeway nodded. “Good thinking. Mister Paris, lay in a course at full impulse. Mister Tuvok, deflectors at maximum.”

I took full advantage of the opportunity to perform scans and gather data about the plasma drift. It was quite unique, and I knew that many of my staff would be thrilled to study this data. It would keep them busy for months.

At subwarp speed, it took a while to detour around the Vidiian star system. After almost two hours of flying, Tom announced that we were past danger.

“Take us out of the plasma drift,” Janeway ordered, “and resume our previous course.”

A moment later, _Voyager_ shook— hard.

“What was that?” the captain asked.

“We hit some kind of subspace turbulence as we were coming out of the plasma drift,” I said. “I can't tell if—“

Before I could finish, power bled out of _Voyager’s_ systems like a gushing headwound. Lights around the bridge cut off and on, and my console flickered as it struggled to work through the energy shortage.

“What the hell?” Tom swore. “Captain, the warp engines just stalled.”

“Go to impulse.”

“Impulse engines aren't responding. Maneuvering thrusters are out, too.”

“We're losing main power,” Harry said. “Switching to backup.”

“Red alert,” Janeway called. “Bridge to engineering. Report.”

“Our antimatter supply is being drained, Captain,” B’Elanna answered. “I don't know why. The containment fields are in place. It's like we sprung a leak, but I can't find the crack.”

Janeway stood and paced across the dais. “Try infusing the warp core with repeated proton bursts. That should be enough to keep it going.”

”Aye, Captain.”

For a few seconds, the bridge was relatively quiet. Then,  _Voyager_ lurched, throwing several crew to the deck.

Chakotay gripped the arms of his chair. “What was that?”

“It appeared to be a proton burst,” Tuvok said.

“Already?” Janeway crossed back towards her chair. “Bridge to Torres, report.”

No answer came.

Taking her seat, the captain leaned over the armrest to study her console. “Engineering, respond.”

Harry took charge of the eerie silence. “Captain, three EPS conduits just ruptured in engineering. They took heavy casualties.”

On and on the chaos continued. Janeway and Chakotay oversaw the situation from the command console between their chairs. Harry announced one system failure after another. I became a com relay of sorts, informing damage control teams of danger areas and alerting sickbay of incoming wounded. Tom fussed over the engines and navigational sensors. Tuvok kept a close watch over our failing hull integrity.

Then, the com chirped.

“Torres to bridge! We're definitely being—“ B’Elanna grunted, which was followed by the sound of debris crashing to the deck. “We're definitely being hit by proton bursts, but I don't know where they're coming from. I never even started the procedure.”

“She's right,” Harry confirmed. “The main sensor array is offline. Not a single burst was fired.”

“But according to my readings,” I said, “the bursts are coming from inside the ship.”

“Captain,” Tuvok interjected, “these bursts are weakening the structural integrity of the hull. We cannot take any more.”

Rising from her seat, Janeway stepped around the center dais to oversee the aft stations. “Can we increase power to structural reinforcement?”

Harry shook his head. “Our antimatter supply is too low. There's just not enough power to go—“

The dreadful hum of another plasma burst sounded just before more quakes shook our flailing ship.

Harry braced himself on the ops console. “Hull breach on deck fifteen, section twenty nine alpha. Emergency force fields are offline. Captain, I've been working on a way to enhance our portable forcefield generators. It might be enough to seal that breach.”

“Go.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Chakotay round the dais to take ops in Harry’s absence.

Meanwhile, I kept at my calculations until I had explored every possible source of our problem. “Captain, I've analysed the bursts on all spectral frequencies. There's still no indication of where they're coming from.”

“At this point,” she snapped, “I don't give a damn where they're coming from. I just want to stop them.”

Guilt ran cold through my veins. I glanced at the captain, who was looking over Chakotay’s shoulder.

“Do we have enough auxiliary power to magnetize the hull?” she asked him. “It might cushion the impact of the bursts.”

He nodded. “We have just barely enough.”

“Give it a try.”

As Chakotay worked, another proton burst rocked the ship. My console alerted me to the damage. Time to be a com relay again, except—

“Captain, a power conduit just ruptured on deck fifteen, section twenty nine.” I glanced up to meet the captain’s eyes. “That’s right over the hull breach Harry, B’Elanna, and Hogan are attempting to secure.”

She nodded and tapped her combadge. “Janeway to B’Elanna, report.”

“Hogan is injured,” came the response. “Harry’s working to seal the breach now.”

“Keep me informed. Janeway out.”

Turning back to my console, I closed my eyes and breathed a small sigh of relief. Then, I returned to my duties. No fires had broken out on deck fifteen, and no one else was near the conduit. As for Hogan, I awaited B’Elanna’s next report.

It came about a minute later. “Torres to bridge. Lieutenant Kim is dead. Kes just disappeared.”

Even as my mind disconnected from my body, I could hear Janeway’s voice behind me. “Disappeared?”

“I can't explain it. She just vanished. There seems to be some kind of spatial rift right where she disappeared.”

“Can you determine where it leads?”

“Stand by, bridge.”

There was a pause on the com, which my mind filled with the memory of B’Elanna’s voice. ‘ _Lieutenant Kim is dead. Lieutenant Kim is dead. Lieutenant Kim is_ —‘

“I just threw a piece of conduit into the rift,” B’Elanna said. “Just as it vanished, I detected another oxygen nitrogen atmosphere. Whatever's on the other side of that rift, there's air. Maybe Kes is still alive.”

Another proton burst hit, but I barely felt it. I was numb. My hands braced the console, and my elbows absorbed the shock, but my senses had dulled almost entirely.

Janeway ordered an evacuation of deck fifteen. I needed to com sickbay so they knew to expect Hogan, but I could barely move or speak.

‘ _Lieutenant Kim is dead_.’

B’Elanna’s voice echoed like the memory of a dream. I closed my eyes. A dream. That’s what it was— a very bad dream. It was senseless, like a dream would be. Harry had been just fine after the power conduit blew. Hogan was injured, but no one died. Therefore, B’Elanna’s words must not have been real.

It was a ridiculously blatant lie, but it worked well enough. I dragged my finger to the com and let Schmullis know that B’Elanna was on her way with Hogan.

When _Voyager_ lurched again, the sound of a body hitting the deck snapped me all the way back to reality. I turned just as Janeway got to her feet.

“Chakotay!” she shouted.

“I've got alignment. Magnetizing.”

A groan reverberated across the hull, then silence fell. No one spoke for a long moment, waiting for the next onslaught. Nothing happened.

“I think it worked,” Chakotay said.

“Let's hope so.” Releasing her grip on the railing, Janeway strode across the dais to take her command chair once more. “I want a full damage report from all decks.”

 _‘Lieutenant Kim is dead_ ,’ my mind supplied. I shook my head, refusing to accept it, and transferred an itemized damage list to ops.

Chakotay began to read through the reports being sent to his console from all over _Voyager_. “The hull breach on deck fifteen has widened to include deck fourteen, section twelve, and there are six hundred thirty-two microfractures along the hull. All primary systems are offline, and we’re running on emergency power. The antimatter supply is at eighteen percent and falling. Warp coils in both nacelles have fused. Environmental control systems are failing. Fifteen crew members have suffered severe plasma burns, and twenty seven experienced other injuries. Dr. Schmullis is setting up triage facilities in sickbay and holodeck two. And—“ He stopped cold. The color drained from his face. “Ensign Wildman's baby didn’t make it.”

Janeway’s next orders were forced through gritted teeth. “I want an engineering team to seal those micro-fractures before they become breaches. Mister Paris, grab a medical tricorder and go assist the doctor.”

“Right.”

“Miss Eelo, go with Paris to sickbay and see to Ensign Wildman.”

I nodded and got to my feet. “Yes, Captain.”

The turbolift doors had barely closed when Tom ventured a quiet, “Tal—“

“ _Don’t_.” I glared straight ahead.

The magnets hummed to life around us as the car began to move. I heard Tom’s sharp intake of breath and prepared for the coming sympathy.

Instead, all noise was overwhelmed by the sound of a proton burst. Tom and I flattened against the wall, but the jolt still threw us to the floor. The turbolift car paused briefly to realign itself before carrying onward towards deck five.

Tom slipped his hands beneath my arms, but I pressed my palms into the carpet. Why bother getting up? In thirty seconds, the next burst would hit and I’d be on my knees again, anyway. There was absolutely no point in it.

 _Samantha just lost her baby_ , I reminded myself. _She needs me_. Voyager _needs me_.

Letting Tom help me to my feet, I refused to think of anything else.

* * *

By the time I arrived in sickbay, Dr. Schmullis had gotten bad news from the bridge. Deck one breached, and had to be evacuated. It was sealed off from the rest of _Voyager_ by emergency bulkheads, and I wondered if we were ever going to see that deck again. The bridge crew was headed to main engineering to set up a command center.

Upon being relieved of sickbay duties, Tom and I joined them.

Due to the extensive damage, the lack of power, and the continued proton bursts, command protocols still hadn’t been transferred to engineering when we arrived. Their first order of business had been to remagnetize the hull; once that was done, Chakotay had to keep a close watch to ensure it didn’t depolarize again. Janeway assisted Chakotay, who was wiping soot and sweat away from his eyes. Tuvok was nowhere in sight.

As Tom split off to help Chakotay, Janeway directed me to an alcove of consoles that B’Elanna had prepared for bridge functions. All she needed was a command-qualified officer to assist her with the transfer.

There were eight officers with command qualifications— Captain Janeway, Chakotay, Tuvok, me, Tom, Harry, Mike Ayala, and Joe Carey. Joe had been injured by the initial proton burst. Mike had been off-duty, and took charge of damage control teams after the first wave of overloads. Janeway had sent Tuvok to ensure all evacuated areas were secure.

If Harry had been alive, he would have been working with B’Elanna. With his command qualifications, they would already be well under way.

Fists clenched, I forced that hammering thought out of my mind.

B’Elanna glanced up, lips parting over gritted teeth. She probably meant to criticize me for taking so long, but when she saw my face, she froze. Her expression softened, and I saw the pain underneath her hard exterior.

She had watched her best friend get blown into space through a hull breach. Her trauma could potentially be even worse than my own. Yet, she pressed onward.

Taking a deep breath, I forced my feet to move.

With my authorization code, the command transfer went quickly. Consoles around the alcove reoriented to display the primary bridge controls— command, helm, operations, and tactical. Just as B’Elanna announced to the captain that the transfer was complete, a shrill screech whistled through the com system.

Janeway swiveled towards us. “What is that?”

I rolled my stool from the helm to command.

Beside me, B’Elanna searched her ops controls. “I don’t know. Some kind of com emission coming through all subspace bands.”

“Coming from where?”

“Good question. I can't tell, but it's got a Federation signature.”

Janeway strode towards us, eyes wide. “Try recalibrating our frequency carrier to match it.”

The captain and I crowded over B’Elanna’s shoulder as she entered equations into the computer. Once she finished, she sat back and waited to see what would happen next.

Within thirty seconds, a numeric code appeared on her console.

I gasped. “That's the emergency code.”

“Run it through an alphanumeric sequencer,” Janeway commanded.

The numbers transformed into large block letters. ‘ _EMERGENCY TRANSMISSION: LOCK 12 GIGAHER_.’

“I think someone's telling us to lock onto a frequency of twelve gigahertz,” B’Elanna said.

Janeway nodded. “Do it.”

Behind us, the small viewscreen above helm control activated, but only showed static. B’Elanna set to clearing up the comlink, and the image of Captain Janeway appeared. Unlike the captain standing beside me, this Janeway’s brown bun was neat and in tact. She was clean of sweat and grime, nor did she sport the bruised and blood-caked cut that marred my captain’s cheek.

“Captain,” the woman on the com said, “this isn't an illusion. What you're seeing is real, but it's going to take some explaining.”

My captain crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

“Do you recall reading about an experiment at Kent State University, in which quantum theorists duplicated a single particle of matter using a divergence of subspace fields?”

“Yes,” the captain said. “The spatial scission experiment.”

“What if I told you that the same forces were at work inside of the plasma drift, and that the turbulence you encountered as you left the cloud was, in fact, a large subspace divergence field?”

I frowned. “Are you saying that the turbulence we snagged on actually duplicated all matter on _Voyager_?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying, Commander.”

“How did you come to this conclusion?” the captain asked.

“A little over two hours ago, our crew discovered Kes unconscious on deck fifteen. Beside her was a piece of damaged conduit from section twenty nine alpha, bulkhead zero five two. But we already had our own Kes in sickbay, assisting Dr. Schmullis with the delivery and postnatal care of Ensign Wildman’s baby. Beyond that, there was no damage to deck fifteen; that conduit was— and still is— in tact.”

I exchanged a weighty look with B’Elanna. If there was no damage, their Harry must still be alive.

The other Janeway continued. “My Lieutenant Commander Eelo ran a quantum level analysis of our sensor logs from the cloud, and discovered that, at the moment _Voyager_ passed through the divergence field, all of our sensor readings doubled. Every particle of matter was duplicated instantly, and now occupies the same point in space-time due to a slight phase variance. But, just like the experiment, the antimatter could not be duplicated.”

“That would explain our antimatter drain,” B’Elanna pointed out. “Both engines have been trying to draw power from a single source of antimatter.”

“Exactly,” the other Janeway confirmed.

“When you noticed the antimatter leak,” I asked, “did you try to compensate for it by generating a series of—“

“Proton bursts,” she confirmed. “Yes, that is where our experiences diverge. Evidently, we were slightly quicker to initiate that procedure.”

“That’s why my sensors seemed to think they were coming from inside the ship.” I looked at my captain, a sense of vindication lifting my _pagh_ just a little. Even in the midst of a horrible crisis, I had been on the right track. Given more time, I could have figured out the problem. My counterpart seemed to have been a big help in the discovery made by the alternate _Voyager_.

I was, finally, a worthy science officer.

My brief moment of pride was undercut by the desire to gush to Harry about my accomplishment. It had become instinct to share such things with him— to share myself with him. He had known all about my insecurities surrounding the job, and was always a source of encouragement for me. His faith in my abilities never wavered once.

My eyes pricked with tears that I didn’t think I could fight. Turning my back to the viewscreen, I bit my trembling lip and squeezed my eyes shut. B’Elanna’s hand settled on my arm, and I grabbed it for support.

Behind me, I could hear my captain testing the alternate Janeway for knowledge that would confirm her identity. Janeway knew the circumstances surrounding Harry’s and baby Wildman’s deaths, although both were unharmed on her ship. She even detailed a story from her adolescence— one that she would be hard-pressed to know about if she were an alien in disguise. It all made sense. There were two _Voyagers_ , but there was one big problem.

In the original Kent State experiment, the duplicate particles of matter were unable to exist at the same point in space-time for more than a few minutes, before breaking down at the quantum level.

There were two _Voyagers_ , but only one could survive.

By this point, the rest of the senior staff had crowded into the alcove. Janeway’s face was tight and her lips were pressed into a thin line. She didn’t need to say anything; we all knew what she intended to do.

“You’re going to destroy your ship,” the other Janeway said.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because that's what I would do if your _Voyager_ were intact, and my _Voyager_ were crippled, my crew wounded or dead.” Empathy softened her gaze. “I'd sacrifice my ship so that yours could survive.”

“Then I'm glad we agree,” my captain said.

Janeway’s gaze hardened again. “I didn't say I agree; I said I understand. I'm not willing to let you make that sacrifice yet. We haven't explored all the options.”

“Yes we have, and we both know it.”

“Captain,” the other Janeway reasoned, “give me fifteen minutes to come up with another solution. After that, it's your decision.”

My captain nodded. “Fifteen minutes. Good luck.”

“To both of us.”

* * *

Once our time was up, we reestablished the comlink with the alternate _Voyager_ only to learn that both crews hit dead ends. Recombining the ships wasn’t an option, nor could we separate them and split the antimatter. Evacuating our crew to the undamaged _Voyager_ would throw off the atomic balance and destroy us all.

Soon, I knew that my captain would talk her counterpart into accepting the inescapable truth— our _Voyager_ had to be destroyed. I awaited that moment with a sort of peace and clarity that had been ripped from me just a few hours ago, when I lost Harry.

In a way, I was right to think of my experience as unreal. Their _Voyager_ had beaten us to the punch for initiating the proton bursts, most likely because they were the original. I hadn’t lost Harry, but a copy of him, because he and I were both quantum duplicates of the other _Voyager_. I wasn’t real; I was the bad dream.

That dream was about to end. No deaths, no traumas, no broken-down ship. Just another strange anomaly in the Delta Quadrant.

Still, the original Captain Janeway continued to fight it. “What if we try to realign the phase displacement between us?”

“We don't have time to try it,” my captain argued. “There’s barely enough antimatter to sustain us both, and you still need to get to a safe place where you can find dilithium before you run out. My plan is the only one that's going to work. It's time that we both accept that.”

Janeway sighed. “Kathryn—“

“Captain,” their Harry interjected, “I’ve got a vessel approaching at bearing zero-zero-five mark three-one-eight. They’ve just dropped out of warp.”

The sound of his voice was jarring.

“It’s Vidiian.”

Blood drained from my face. No, no! We had been so close. The dream was nearly at an end.

Suddenly, it had become a nightmare.

“Shields?” the captain asked.

“Still off-line,” B’Elanna replied.

“Captain,” my Janeway said to her counterpart, “Do you have weapons?”

The other Janeway turned towards tactical, and Tuvok answered for her. “Negative, Captain. We had to reroute power to compensate for the antimatter loss. It would take several hours to bring weapons back online.”

“Captain,” I said, calling the attention of both Janeways to me. “Our sensors couldn’t detect the Vidiian vessel until I recalibrated them to compensate for our quantum phase variance. It’s possible they don’t see us— just the other _Voyager_.”

Before either could respond, the other Tuvok announced that the Vidiian ship had fired an energy weapon.

“All hands,” both captains said, “brace for impact.”

We gripped our consoles hard, but nothing happened.

“Comlink just went down,” B’Elanna reported.

“Try to get it back,” the captain ordered. “What happened? They couldn’t have missed.”

Chakotay looked at me. “I think Talia was right. They must have hit the other _Voyager_.” He glanced over to B’Elanna. “Could we take the same recalibration technique Talia used on our sensors, and apply it to the com signal?”

B’Elanna accessed my sensor logs and considered the modifications. “It might work.”

“Give it a try.”

Soon, she had reestablished the link. The other _Voyager’s_ bridge was still undamaged, and her captain’s bun was still coiled tightly in place. Aside from the flashing red alert lights, it seemed unphased.

Appearance was, in this case, quite deceptive.

“What’s happening over there?” my captain asked theirs.

“We've been boarded. The Vidiians are on the verge of taking over our ship. Are they on yours?”

“No. We don't think they can detect our ship. We can have a security detachment cross the spatial rift and board your ship within five minutes.”

The other Janeway shook her head. “No. If we do that, the Vidiians might become aware of your Voyager. That would put both ships at risk.”

“We can't just stand by and let you all be killed.”

“I'm not about to let that happen.” She jutted out her chin. “I'm going to adapt your plan, and destroy this ship. The blast should take out the Vidiian vessel, as well. With us gone, your _Voyager_ should snap into phase with our quantum reality, and you can carry on for both of us.”

My captain pursed her lips. “I don't suppose there's any way I can change your mind. I know how stubborn you can be.”

The other Janeway quirked her lips. “True. But there is something else I can do for you. We were able to rig a portable phase discriminator so that we could send your Kes back through the rift safely. I'm going to send Harry Kim and Ensign Wildman's baby along with her. Somehow, it seems only fair.”

I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“We'll be waiting for them,” my captain confirmed.

“Just make me a promise, Kathryn. Get your crew home.”

“I will.”

* * *

Counselor's Log: Stardate 49548.7

The alternate Captain Janeway’s plan went just as she said. Kes, Harry, and baby Wildman all came safely through the rift on deck fifteen shortly before the other _Voyager_ self-destructed. The Vidiian ship was destroyed, and our _Voyager_ snapped into phase with the rest of our universe.

Duplicate or not, we are the only _Voyager_ now.

Sam was overjoyed when Harry handed her a squirming half-Ktarian baby girl, alive and in perfect health. Still, it won't erase the grief she experienced over losing her own baby— much like how Harry’s arrival won’t change the fact that we senselessly lost his counterpart here. It's going to take time to recover from this incident, for all of us.

* * *

“Deck four,” I instructed the computer after stepping onto the turbolift.

“Hold the lift!” Harry’s voice carried down the corridor.

“Belay that,” I said. The computer chirped its acknowledgement.

A moment later, Harry and Janeway paused just shy of the threshold. “After you, Captain,” Harry offered, gesturing towards the lift.

Janeway glanced from Harry to me and back again. “You know what, Lieutenant? I think I left something behind in sickbay. I’ll catch the next one.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze, then went back the way she came.

Harry frowned. “Did that seem suspicious to you?”

“Highly.”

He nodded and stepped into the lift. “Glad it wasn’t just me. You headed to engineering?”

I shook my head. “Quarters. I’m wiped.”

“Oh,” he said. As soon as the sound slipped off his tongue, he turned red. “I mean, that’s good. You can get some rest. I’m sure you need it.”

I ticked my eyebrow.

“I-I mean, not that you _look_ like you need it. You always look amazing. I just meant that—“ He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Okay, this is not going at all like I hoped it would.”

“Computer, close turbolift door and hold.” The door slid shut, and the car shifted sideways into a holding slot, so that we wouldn’t block other cars. I turned to Harry and smiled. “It should be illegal to be so adorable.”

Somehow, he became even redder.

Although there was a part of me that felt disconnected from this Harry Kim, as if I didn’t belong in his universe, I couldn’t hold myself back from him any longer. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled his lips to mine.

Harry relaxed easily into the kiss, circling his arms around my waist and pulling me close. With gentle fingers, he traced the length of my spine.

I shivered despite my uniform. It was at that precise moment when I realized something for the first time— I never wanted to let him go. What did it mean, this strange and unfamiliar desire that overwhelmed my entire being? I didn’t know, and frankly I didn’t care. I had lost Harry to a senseless death, yet he still came back to me.

I would not lose him again.


	17. Dissonance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager stops at a remote, uninhabited planet for supplies. While there, Janeway and Chakotay contract an incurable illness, and must be left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Referenced: VOY 2x25 "Resolutions"
> 
> CW: Sexual content

"What can I do for you, Commander?" Captain Janeway watched expectantly as I entered her ready room.

"Departmental reports.” I handed her the first of two PADDs that I had brought with me.

She took the device and skimmed its contents. "Anything of particular note?"

"Stellar cartography and astrophysics came up with some interesting findings in their analyses of the divergence field we passed through the other day. Nothing of immediate importance, but still fascinating to read. Of course, xenobiology is absent due to Sam being on maternity leave."

Janeway looked up. "How is she doing?"

"Physiologically, she and Naomi are both doing well. She's still having the reoccurring nightmares about Naomi's death in the divergence field. Dr. Schmullis and I are taking measures to prevent further psychological trauma. Mostly, I think, what she needs is time."

"Of course.”

"Next, there's been a development with Crewman Lon Suder. Ever since he started working with Kes in airponics and being mentored by Tuvok, his conditions and attitude have shown marked improvement. Which brings me to this—" I handed her my other PADD. "Lon has requested permission to split his duty shifts between engineering and airponics. Kes and B'Elanna have already signed off on it. He strongly believes that, given more time, he can come up with ways to improve the quality, flavor, and output of many of the plants we grow. He already has several ideas."

"Fascinating," she remarked with a grin, glancing over the request. She tapped a button and handed the PADD back to me. "Request granted. Pass this on to Commander Chakotay so he can rework the roster."

"Aye, Captain."

"Anything else?"

"That's most of it. The rest are summary analyses of the chemical, geographical, anthropological, and linguistic data we've collected over the last week. And then there's the reports from the QM lab, which I still can't make heads or tails of no matter how many times the techs try to explain it to me."

She quirked her lips in a crooked smile. "Lucky for you, quantum mechanics is my specialty."

"Yes, I suppose so."

She eyed me carefully. "Is something bothering you, Commander?"

I shook my head. “It isn’t important. Just a personal matter that's been on my mind. Nothing to do with duty."

"Well, is it something I can help you with?"

I studied her for a moment, considering the offer, then took a seat in front of her desk. "It's, ah, it's just—" I rubbed my palms against my slacks. "How did you know when you were in love?"

She gave me a knowing look. "Well, I suppose I finally realized it after I took my first command post. Mark and I had known each other for a long time, but I didn't want to get too close because I knew my life wouldn't be very stable. But, after that mission ended, Mark was waiting for me there at the station. He told me that he didn't care what it took or how often I had to be away, because he was in love with me. And, I realized that I felt the same way."

"I see," I murmured.

"Haven't you ever been in love?"

I shook my head. I could see her real question, written in the creases of her brow. _Didn't you love Chakotay?_ "Like you said, why let anyone get close when you know it's not going to last?" I shrugged. "I had one goal in life, Captain— to be a deep space counselor. When Starfleet took that away from me, all I could think about was finding Marnah. By the time I transferred to Chakotay's cell, there was nothing left but anger. I had no room inside of me to love him. And, frankly, neither did he. We were both very broken people when you invited us to join this crew."

"You've come a long way in the last year.” She paused. "You know, it occurs to me that you've been doing so much to help Ensign Wildman, Chief Torres, and several others cope with the stress of our encounter with the divergence field. But, what about you?" She leaned towards me. "I know how close you've become with Harry. You carried on with your duty after B’Elanna reported his death, but I recognized the look in your eyes. You love him."

Janeway was no stranger to love and loss. Although we never discussed the shuttle accident that claimed the lives of her father and first fiancé, it was all there in her psychological records for me to see.

Evidently, my own loss had been written just as plainly on my face.

She continued. "It can't be easy to reconcile your divergent experiences."

How had a standard departmental report turned into a therapy session for me? It wasn’t the captain’s job to fix me. I out a shaky breath and got to my feet. "I'll manage, Captain. Thank you for talking. I'll keep what you said in mind."

"Talia," she called, halting my hasty departure with the shock of her informal address. I turned back and met her compassionate gaze. "I'm no counselor, but my door is always open if you need to talk."

Blinking back a threat of tears, I gave her a quick nod. "Thank you, Captain.” With that, I all but fled from the room.

* * *

That afternoon, my sensors detected an uninhabited M-class planet. It looked like a promising spot for food and mineral supplies, so we altered course to investigate.

Once we arrived, Janeway sent teams to various locations on the surface to collect samples of plants and minerals for analysis. Chakotay and I beamed to a mountainous area on a continent inside the temperate zone, where the landscape looked strikingly similar to the American Southwest.

A few minutes after we called in our initial report to the bridge, Janeway came to join us. "I wanted to get some fresh air," she said.

Chakotay chuckled when she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Remind you of home?"

"A little south of home, maybe.” Opening her eyes, Janeway pulled out a tricorder and nodded. "Let's get to work." It didn’t take her long to wonder off into some nearby woods.

As I was collecting samples from a bush of berries I had found, Chakotay announced that he was going to check on the captain. I met them just as they reemerged from the trees.

"We need to get back to the ship," Chakotay said.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Janeway waved off my concern. "It's probably nothing, but we got a few bug bites in the woods while we were taking soil samples. We should have the doctor look at them just to be safe."

I nodded and tapped my com badge. "Eelo to _Voyager_. Three to beam up."

When we materialized on the ship, I asked Janeway if I should accompany them to sickbay. She declined. Opening the case she carried for sample collection, she removed a small container with a beetle inside. She then closed the case and handed it to me. “Take our samples to the botany lab for analysis.”

I nodded and took Chakotay's case. “Aye, Captain.”

* * *

I was still assisting Dr. Klegglachen when Dr. Schmullis called me to sickbay.

The moment I stepped through the doors, Schmullis whipped out his medical tricorder and scanned me from head to hip. "No sign of the virus," he told Kes, who made a note on the console.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Janeway answered. "I've asked Lieutenant Commander Tuvok to join us. Dr. Schmullis will explain the situation once he arrives." She and Chakotay sat stiffly on two biobeds side-by-side. Janeway’s face was neutral, but Chakotay looked worried.

Another minute later, Tuvok came. "I have recalled all of the away teams, Captain. They are in the process of transporting back to the ship, and will report to sickbay upon their return."

She nodded. "Thank you, Tuvok."

Schmullis joined us by the biobeds. "Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay have been infected with a form of viral hemorrhagic fever. They're still in the incubation stage of the virus, so they shouldn't begin to show symptoms for a few days. However, once they do become ill, the virus will likely become deadly. Preliminary treatments have failed to eradicate the virus, and the specimen that Captain Janeway brought aboard was not a carrier. They'll need to stay here while I look for a cure.”

"I can go down in a biosuit and collect other specimens,” I offered. “I'll take a transport enhancer with me and beam the insects back separately; that way, I won’t become infected, as well."

”My research would be significantly helped if I could get a specimen that does carry the disease."

Janeway nodded. "Do it." She then turned to Tuvok. "Until this gets sorted out, you'll be in command of _Voyager_. Keep scanning around the clock for signs of Vidiian ships nearby. As long as the coast is clear, we should stay in orbit, in case Dr. Schmullis needs any more scans or samples from the planet."

"Understood."

* * *

It took four days for Janeway and Chakotay to show signs of illness. The first phase of the virus featured moderate flu-like symptoms, which Dr. Schmullis did his best to control with various medicines. 

Sam Wildman volunteered as much time she could spend away from her newborn daughter, Naomi, in order to help Kes and the Schmullis with their research. Yet, none of the insects we found seemed to carry the virus. Half of our science labs worked to analyze anything that might help us find a cure, and I reassigned nearly all of my divisional staff to assist in achieving our goal.

Yet, we found nothing.

Three days after the first symptoms emerged, Sam suggested that we check the continent for mammalian life. If we could study their immunogenicity to learn how they coped with the disease, perhaps Dr. Schmullis could formulate a cure. When biosensors turned up several options, I took Sam, Kes, and a couple lab assistants to the surface. The preliminary scans we brought back, mostly of a shrew-like creature we found, yielded no immediate insight into a cure.

Still, we kept looking.

With further study, Dr. Schmullis noted that the shrews were also infected with the virus. Yet, they suffered no liver damage and appeared otherwise healthy— that was, until we brought one aboard _Voyager_. When he ruled out other options for thier sudden development of symptoms, he hypothesized that something about the planet was suppressing the virus. He implanted the shrew with a bio reading transmitter, and we sent the creature back to where we found it. Within a day, its biosigns had stabilized and the virus was being suppressed once again.

Around that same time, Janeway and Chakotay moved out of phase one. Their immune systems had killed off most of the virus, and the symptoms abated, but a few localized strains of the virus survived and were  beginning to multiply. We decided that our best chance for saving our command team was to put them in stasis on the planet's surface before the virus spread and triggered the second phase.

For another seventeen days after that, we researched the hell out of our shrew lead. We tested everything we could think of, and checked our results multiple times, just to be sure we hadn't missed something. We continued collecting samples of every insect we could find in the area, but none of them carried the virus.

We were out of leads.

The only hope we had left was to contact the Vidiians and ask if they had developed a cure for the virus, which I knew wouldn't happen. Janeway would never allow it, Tuvok would never defy her orders, and risking one hundred and fifty lives for two officers went entirely against protocol. Schmullis hung his head in despair as he sent me to the bridge with his report.

All my years of well-practiced self-control failed to keep the tears from escaping my eyes as I delivered that report to Tuvok.

* * *

About an hour later, Tuvok called the senior staff, as well as Neelix and Kes, into the briefing room. He informed everyone of our failure to find a cure, Captain Janeway's order to not contact the Vidiians, and her transfer of command to him.

"So we're just going to abandon them on this planet?" B'Elanna asked.

"Those were Captain Janeway's express orders," Tuvok replied.

"But you're captain now," Tom pointed out. "You can rescind them."

"To what end?"

In my periphery, I saw Tom look to me for support. I kept my eyes facing the table and my mouth firmly shut.

"I can tell you," Neelix interjected, "the morale of the crew is going to suffer if we leave them behind."

"Not ‘ _if_ ,’ Mister Neelix," Tuvok corrected. " _When_ we leave them behind. The decision has been made. We will, of course, provide them with everything they'll need for their survival and comfort."

"You talk as though it were a camping trip," B'Elanna said, clearly becoming more agitated by the moment. "They have to spend the rest of their lives down there."

"That is not a certainty. Captain Janeway intends to continue researching the virus. She is an able scientist, and may eventually be able to effect a cure. They have a type nine shuttlecraft at their disposal if it becomes possible for them to leave the planet."

Tom balked. "Type nine shuttlecraft has a top speed of warp four. It won't take them more than, oh, about seven hundred years to get home."

"Tom.” I shook my head.

"I am not certain what it is you expect me to do, Lieutenant.”

Tom ignored my warning. "Clearly, something you can't do,” he spat, “which is to feel as rotten about this as we do."

Tuvok was unaffected. "You are correct that I am unable to experience that emotion. And frankly, I fail to see what the benefit would be." He paused and looked around the room. "If there is nothing more, you are all dismissed."

Making eye contact with Tom was a mistake. As he stood, the look he gave me spoke of disdain and betrayal. I put my head in my hands and reminded myself to breathe.

"Commander," Tuvok said, drawing my attention to him. "Will you join me in my ready room?"

 _‘My ready room,’_  not Captain Janeway’s. I dropped my hands and cleared my throat, doing my best to swallow every crushing emotion. "Yes, sir."

Once we entered the ready room, Tuvok sat down behind the captain's desk. I took a seat in front of it. "I am sure you are aware, Miss Eelo, that you are next in the command structure to become _Voyager's_ first officer."

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"However, under normal circumstances, your duty as ship's counselor would take prescedence over taking on the responsibilities of a permanent command post, and the position would fall to the officer ranking below you."

"Tom," I murmured, and Tuvok simply nodded. "But, these are not normal circumstances."

"Indeed, they are not. As such, I ask that you consider serving this crew as my first officer. If you were to accept, you would still function as the ship's counselor, as a matter of necessity, but those duties would need to be secondary to your command duties. You are the most qualified officer on board for the posting, and I believe that this ship and this crew will be better served should you choose to take the post. However, I will not act against Starfleet policy on the matter. If you wish to remain at your current post, you have that right."

"Thank you, sir."

"Do you need time to consider your decision?"

There wasn’t much to consider. Tom had come a long way since the beginning of our journey, but he sure as hell wasn’t ready to be a first officer. 

Was I?

I shook my head. "No, sir, I don't need any time. I will accept the assignment."

"I am pleased to hear that. I see no reason for you to replicate new uniforms for yourself, and I will continue to respect Captain Janeway's approval of your cultural accessory. If you would, please prepare a list of candidates to take over as Chief Science Officer."

"Thank you, sir. I'll have it ready first thing in the morning."

* * *

By the end of the day, we got word that Janeway and Chakotay had received everything they needed from us. As a means of farewell, the crew submitted letters for our former command team; Kathryn and Chakotay, too, wrote letters to us.

With that final exchange completed, Captain Tuvok gave the order to resume course towards the Alpha Quadrant.

Instead of going to the mess hall after duty, I found myself leaning up against the corridor wall across from Chakotay's office— _my_ office. Eventually, Harry came looking for me.

"Talia?"

I did my best to force a smile. "Hey, Harry."

"What are you doing?"

"I didn't really feel up to eating or socializing, so I thought I'd get started on setting up my office instead. But, I can't bring myself to go inside. It's still _his_ office, you know? How can I just walk in and disturb his space?" Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back. "It feels like I've been asked to desecrate someone's grave."

Harry winced at the word ‘grave.’

”Sorry,” I said.

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s your truth.”

”Did you read the letters?”

”Yeah, I did. You?”

I shook my head. The guilt I felt over discovering their lonely planet rose like bile in my throat, but I swallowed it down. “I tried to... but I couldn’t.”

Harry nodded. “Chakotay’s letter to me was short— very short. With so many to write in so little time, I imagine most letters were. He told me to watch out for you, and take care of you, because you wouldn’t do it for yourself.”

My chest heaved with a sob.

Folding me into his arms, he added, “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

The emotional dam I'd kept my finger in all day burst open, and I cried into his shoulder until I was too weary to think about anything at all.

* * *

Eventually, Harry coaxed me into the mess hall to try and eat. Neelix gave me his best morale-boosting efforts, but I still ended up sitting quietly, picking at my food and staring out the windows at the stars.

Harry's academy friend, Ensign Lyndsay Ballard, came and joined us, looking uncharacteristically sedated. "I was hoping I'd run into you guys. I hear you're poking around among the junior officers looking for dissension, Harry."

"You don't have to make it sound so bad, Lynds. I'm just asking people how they feel about it."

"Well, I think it sucks targ balls. I can't believe we're just going to leave them behind. How can Commander Tuvok be okay with that? I thought he and Janeway were supposed to be old friends."

"Captain," I muttered.

They both looked at me, a bit surprised to hear me finally speak.

I paused in the middle of shredding my food to look back at them. "Tuvok isn't a Lieutenant Commander anymore. He's the captain."

Lyndsay gave a nervous snort of laughter. "Oh. Right. Wow, I didn't even realize I said— well, that's gonna take some getting used to."

"Mhmm." I turned my attention back to my plate.

"Anyway," she continued, "I just can't help but feel like we should do something, you know?"

"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed. "That's exactly how I feel."

"Maybe you should say something to Captain Tuvok about it."

Harry sighed. "No, we already tried that when he briefed us. He's pretty adamant about following Captain Janeway's orders."

"Maybe you could convince him, Talia. You're his first officer now, but you're still the ship's only counselor. If you can explain to him how hard this is on the crew's emotional well-being—"

"It won't change his mind.”

"I don't know, Talia," Harry said. "He respects you more than anyone else on the ship. If anyone can get through to him, you could."

I dropped my fork, weary of looking at my food, and out of patience with the conversation. "No he won't, Harry, because it would require him to act in open defiance of Captain Janeway, protocol, and logic. He'll never make that kind of decision. Not ever. And, as awful as it is, he's not wrong."

His face drained of color as he leaned back, raising his hands defensively. "Talia—"

Harry's surrender didn't even register in my mind. I had snapped, and I was going for the jugular. "None of my people got any rest for the entire past month while we were trying to find a cure. Sam even gave up her maternity leave to help. It's entirely possible that there just isn't a cure, not even with the Vidiians. And, if they do happen to have one, they sure as hell won't share it with us. They will turn on us if we contact them. _You_ know that better than any of us, Harry; _you saw it happen_. They'll kill us all, and then they'll go back for Chakotay and Kathryn. So just give it up, okay? Get over it and move on." With that, I shoved my chair away from the table and stormed out.

* * *

A little over a day after my confrontation with Harry in the mess hall, Tuvok hailed Kathryn and Chakotay to ensure they were doing well. They requested the channel be projected throughout all of _Voyager_ , at which point they gave us their final good-byes. A few minutes later, _Voyager_ moved out of com range for good.

After that, I worked up the courage to move into Chakotay's office.

For two weeks, I avoided everyone. I didn’t see any patients. I locked myself in my quarters, skipped most meals, and threw myself into my new command duties. There was much to catch up on, and I was so very far behind. It helped that I couldn’t seem to sleep much at all, giving me even more time for work. After a while, I began to feel like I might actually be making headway.

Then, I had a confrontation with Tuvok.

At the end of that miserable shift, I headed straight for my quarters. The door slid open, revealing an intruder in the darkness— Harry Kim, sitting calmly on my couch.

I froze.

Hopping to his feet, he made it to me in four strides and wrapped me in his arms.

The warmth of his body seemed to seep into every part of me, thawing my ability to breathe and speak and move. Sliding my own arms around him, I sighed into his chest. “You heard.”

“I did.”

“What did you hear?”

Harry relaxed his grip and stepped back, pulling me with him into my quarters. The door slid shut behind me. “That you had another crying spell during your shift today, and that when you went back to the bridge, Tuvok called you into his office.” He touched my face. “What happened?”

The heat became too much, and started to burn. I slipped out of his hold and looked away. “Nothing.”

“Talia.”

Zipping off my uniform jacket, I stepped around Harry and hung it on the back of a dining chair. “How did you get in?”

“I asked my question first.”

I sighed and settled on the couch. “He offered to relieve me of duty for a few days so I could grieve.”

Harry followed me to the couch, refusing to let me isolate from him. He sat beside me and took my hands. “Good. I’m glad you’re getting some time to process this for yourself.”

I frowned. “What? No! I don’t need time to grieve. I’m second in command now. What I need is to move the hell on. I still have to catch up to where Chakotay was when he left. I’m behind. I can’t afford to lose any time.”

He hung his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Please tell me Tuvok saw through that bullshit.”

I yanked my hands from his. “It isn’t bullshit. But he didn’t like my response.”

“Good.”

“I kind of yelled at him.”

“You—“ His eyes grew wide. “You what?”

“It wasn’t my best moment.”

“What did he do?”

I shrugged. “Nothing, at first. Just looked at me all smug like he does, because I was only proving his point. I convinced him not to relieve me of duty on one condition— I have to meditate with him at least three nights each week.”

Harry studied my face with an intensity too painful to bear. Was it sadness I saw in his eyes? Pity? Worry? Regardless, I couldn’t see the one emotion that I deserved to have him focus on me— anger. After the way I had treated him during the past two weeks, it should have been anger. But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t understand why.

With tenderness I didn’t deserve, Harry stroked my face.

That was all I could handle.

Heat rushed through me, carrying a surge of need that made my body ache. I crushed my mouth against his and slipped my tongue between his lips, probing for entry. He opened to me immediately. I tipped his head back and swept my tongue inside as I hastily straddled his lap, coaxing him to arousal under the rhythmic sway of my hips. I unzipped his jacket and worked it off.

“Talia,” he murmured.

I cut him off with another kiss. It wasn’t words that I needed. Words would only lead to more feelings, and I couldn’t take the pain. I needed to feel good, and I knew of only one sure-fire way to accomplish that. I reached for the clasp of his pants.

Harry grabbed my wrists and pulled me away. “Talia, stop.”

I blinked. Never— and I mean _never_ — had a man refused my advances at that point in an encounter. If we were alone and he was interested in me, it should have been inevitable. Granted, I had never before pursued a long-term relationship, but it was jarring nonetheless.

Harry’s face was flushed, his nipples were like pebbles beneath his grey shirt, and his pants were tented at the fly. Yet, he held me away from himself like something dangerous. “Not like this,” he panted, as if it took all of his self-control to speak those words. “Please, not like this.”

Embarrassment rushed through me like a cold wind, and I scrambled to my feet. I paced away from him, but was unsure of where to go or what to do next. We were in my quarters, so I couldn’t just leave. Part of me wanted to scream at him to go, but the rest of me desperately needed him to stay. I wrapped my arms around myself and crumpled to the deck. Sobs shook my whole body.

A moment later, Harry was there, folding me into his embrace once more. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. Captain Janeway and Chakotay were gone forever, and the whole goddamn thing had been my fault. I was the one who found the planet. I had suggested we change course to investigate. Apart from that, Janeway and Chakotay would still be on _Voyager_ where they belonged. Instead, they were gone and I was the one to blame.

“It’s not your fault,” Harry insisted.

Had he been reading my thoughts? Or was I simply that obvious?

“We’re going to get through this,” he promised.

‘ _Watch our for her, Harry_ ,’ Chakotay had instructed in his final letter to my boyfriend. ‘ _Take care of her. She won’t do it for herself_.’

My friend was absolutely right. In a sense, he knew me even better than Tom ever had, because Chakotay had seen me through unimaginable trauma during our time together in the Maquis. He had literally seen me at my worst, and had dragged me through the darkness with no mental health resources at all. He knew what it took to break me, and he knew my favorite coping strategies.

And, although self-awareness was one of my weaknesses, I knew in that moment— as Harry cradled me on the floor of my dark quarters— that I was depressed. Both Tom and Chakotay were well aware of how I expressed my depression, and there was no reason to think they hadn’t shared their insights with Harry. Yet, Harry hadn’t said a thing about it. He hadn’t pushed me to go to sickbay, tried to diagnose me, or even pressed me to talk. He simply waited and refused to be pushed away.

So, I did something that I had never been able to to with Chakotay.

“I need help,” I whispered.

“Anything,” Harry promised. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Take me to sickbay.”

“Now?” He gulped. “Do you mind if we, uh, wait a minute?”

Right. I had pounced him and he still needed time to come down. Saving him a little embarrassment was the least I could do, considering his incredible patience with me. I nodded. “We can wait.”

He gave a half-smile. “Sorry.”

”Don’t be. I’m the one who should apologize. Can you forgive me?”

He cupped my face in one hand. “Of course I forgive you.”

I stared into his hooded brown eyes that gazed at me with such compassion and... something else I wasn’t certain how to identify. Was it love? I pressed my cheek into his hand, and my mouth opened to speak words that I hadn’t even known were on my tongue. “Please don’t leave me.”

Harry pulled my face to his, resting his forehead against mine. “Never. If anyone is going to walk away from this relationship, it will have to be you. I’m not going anywhere.”


	18. Resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Talia figures out a new homeostasis, Kes convinces her and Tuvok to get the cure for Janeway and Chakotay. But, after nearly three months alone together, things between Voyager's command duo may never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Episode Referenced: 2x25 "Resolutions"
> 
> CW: Sexual Content

By the end of our first month without Kathryn and Chakotay, I was accepting new appointments again, and I had nearly caught myself up on executive duties. With Kes managing my patient files, the newly-promoted Lieutenant Sam Wildman taking over as Chief Science Officer, and Dr. Schmullis treating me with an antidepressant, I finally started to find my feet again.

It was a good thing, too, because time did not seem to be healing the crew's hurt over our loss, nor did it do anything to fade their bitterness towards Tuvok for leaving Kathryn and Chakotay behind. Many of them pressed me to talk to Tuvok, and it left me feeling torn between the two very different roles I was playing on the ship. On the one hand, the crew were in deep emotional distress that needed badly to be resolved before it became something negative; on the other hand, I fully understood the tactical and command reasons why Tuvok pressed on as he did. The conflict became my own inner dissonance, because I truly did not know how to choose one over the other or how to make them meet in the middle.

* * *

Normally, I spent Sunday mornings reading from the lectionary and praying; it was a practice my family had kept semi-regularly at the request of my uncommonly religious grandmother, who wanted her grandchildren to be raised in the Catholic tradition. The fifth Sunday after leaving Kathryn and Chakotay on that planet, however, I struggled to concentrate, rereading the same sentences over and over. I sighed and snapped the book shut, whispering an apology to Grandma.

Just then, the door chimed.

"Come in.” The doors swished open, revealing Kes on the other side. I smiled and set my book down. "Kes! What brings you here?"

She stepped inside. "I wanted to talk to you about—" She paused, seeing the prayer candles and lectionary on my coffee table, and the rosary beads still coiled around my fingers. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

I leaned over the table to blow out my candles. "Not really. I couldn't keep focus, so I wasn't really doing anything."

"Were you trying to meditate?"

"Pray, actually."

She smiled. "I didn't know you were religious."

"Only somewhat. I tend to be skeptical of the metaphysical claims religions make, but I appreciate the symbolic and cultural meaning, and I honor the religious traditions of both my parents." I uncoiled the beads from my hand and crossed the crucifix before setting it on the lectionary. "Silly as it sounds, keeping the weekly liturgy helps me feel connected to my family somehow."

"I don't think that's silly, at all. I think it makes perfect sense."

I smiled at her kindness. "How can I help you, Kes?"

"I was hoping I could talk to you about the crew."

“Of course. What's going on?"

* * *

An hour later, Kes and sat in Tuvok's quarters. After replicating a pot of Vulcan spice tea and three cups, he joined us in the seating area and served our drinks. "What would you like to discuss?"

"I'd like to talk to you about my father," Kes said.

Tuvok set the teapot down. "Your father?"

Kes nodded. "He was a very wise man. More than anyone, he shaped the person I am. If it hadn't been for him I would have never questioned my people's beliefs. I would have never left our city. I would never have met all of you."

"Then we owe him a debt. It is difficult to imagine this journey without you."

She continued. "When he died, I had just turned one year old. I didn't know how I'd get through the rest of my life without him. But then I started working with you and I didn't miss him so much anymore."

"I am honored by the comparison.”

"My father always taught me to question everything. He said it was important for me to think about things for myself, instead of just accepting what others tell me. He said that there would be times when I would know what the right thing was, and that I might have to stand alone to defend it. But, he also taught me to remember that being right isn't everything, that sometimes the more important thing is compassion. He said that if something doesn't help others, then it isn't the right thing, even if it's the most rational option."

"A wise lesson."

"As captain, the well-being of your crew is important to you."

Tuvok nodded. "Of course."

"Their emotional well-being as well as their physical safety?"

He frowned in that barely-frowning way that many Vulcans do. "I cannot allow myself to become hostage to their feelings."

"Captain," I interjected, "I know you miss Kathryn deeply. You shared a friendship with her far beyond what most Terrans and Vulcans have. I know you're affected by this, too. But, you must realize, the rest of the crew doesn't understand that. They can't believe someone so close to Captain Janeway could just leave her behind without blinking an eye. It makes them wonder if they can trust you."

"Their feelings about me are irrelevant. I am their captain, not their friend."

"With all due respect, sir, their feelings aren't as irrelevant as you might think. I’m doing the best I can to help them get through their grief, but it's hard to accept leaving her behind like this when she would have done everything in her power to bring any of us home."

"Need I remind you that we did all that we could to develop a cure for the virus?"

His remark stung, but I took it in stride. "No, sir, you don't. But, we still have an option that we haven't tried yet, and, in my opinion, it's only a matter of time before someone takes it upon themselves to do what they believe is right."

He ticked his eyebrows. "That is a valid point, Commander. Perhaps it would be wise to tighten the security of our communications systems."

"You know that's not why we came here, Tuvok," Kes said.

"I am aware of your intentions, but Captain Janeway specifically told us not to contact the Vidiians. The safety of this crew is paramount, and I must do whatever I can to ensure that safety."

"Captain," I said, "I agree that contacting the Vidiians is unwise, and I agree that your job as their leader requires you to not be tied down by the crew's every emotional whim. This has been a source of great conflict for me, as well. I've done my best to be both their counselor and executive officer. But, as Kes said, the logic of compassion has to balanced with the logic of survival. When Chakotay was captured after destroying the transporter module that Seska stole from us, Captain Janeway chose to mount a rescue attempt even though he specifically said not to."

"A mission that we were fortunate to come out of alive," Tuvok countered.

"You're right. That’s why I took your side of the issue, and it's why I've supported your decision in this matter so far. But, after talking it over with Kes, I've had a change of heart. The crew may be safer by avoiding the Vidiians, but they're bleeding out emotionally. They can't go on like this forever. They need closure.”

”Besides,” Kes added, “we think there’s a way to get the cure without turning this into a suicide mission."

Tuvok quirked an eyebrow. "Go on."

"We want to return to Dr. Denara Pel's colony. It's small and remote enough that the risk will be minimal, and I know that she'll help us however she can."

I nodded. "Stellar cartography has already updated the ship's sensors to recognize divergence fields like the one we passed through last month, and the techs in astrophysics think they can work with B'Elanna's people to find a way to protect _Voyager_ from being duplicated again."

The captain pondered our proposal.

"Tuvok, please," Kes said. "They are suffering because of this."

* * *

First Officer's Log, supplemental

In exchange for several samples of B'Elanna's DNA, Dr. Pel has supplied us with the anti-viral agent we need to cure Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. As it turns out, she took my advice and became a social advocate within the government of her colony. Her work has been well received by the colony's leaders, who she persuaded to make the trade with us. Beyond that, they showed us some tricks to keep us from being detected by other Vidiian ships as we make our way out of their space. We've said our good-byes, and are now on our way to retrieve our crew.

* * *

"So," I said to Chakotay, setting down a PADD, "everything seems to check out here." I crossed my legs and sat back in my chair, more content than I had been in months. "Tell me about your experience on New Earth."

He shrugged, resistant to counseling as he had always been. "What do you want to know?"

I couldn't help but smile with amusement.

He frowned. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not being very successful at retaining my professional neutrality. I've missed this; I've missed you."

He quirked his lips to one side. "I've missed you, too. You know that I'd much rather talk to my friend Talia than Counselor Talia."

I nodded. "Alright, Tay. Friends. But, I'll still have to enter notes on our conversation."

"Fine," he agreed.

I got to my feet and padded across to the couch where he sat, taking the cushion next to him. He smiled and nodded his approval before pulling me into a hug. When we parted, he noted the weariness in my eyes. "I told you that you could do my job.”

I made a sour face. "It was so awful. I felt like I had to be two separate people in one body. A counselor is supposed to balance the command staff— to offer a perspective that doesn't tend to occur to them— not to _be_ them. If I do end up back in that chair someday, I need to make sure there is someone to replace me as counselor. I never want to do both, not ever again."

His eyebrows jumped in surprise. "Are you saying you'd give up counseling for command?"

"Maybe, but not today." I sat back and studied his face. "What happened down there, Tay?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "For the first several weeks, Kathryn refused to settle. She obsessed about her research and finding a cure. Even when she was relaxing in her bath at the end of the day, she'd go on about it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Her bath?"

"I… built her a bathtub during our first week there. She said she preferred baths to sonic showers."

I smiled at him teasingly, but for the first time, he didn't get defensive or tease me back.

"I made a lot of things,” he explained. “Paintings and sculptures for the house. A headboard for her bed so she'd be more comfortable when she sat up to read at night. But, she always resisted my efforts to make that ridiculous modular into a real home. It was infuriating."

"How did things change after the plasma storm?"

"When her equipment was destroyed, she supposed it was finally time to let go. But, it was clear that she still couldn't. She'd keep going back over all the research that your teams and Dr. Schmullis did, and the things she had come up with since then, combing through it all day after day, looking for something someone had missed.

"At one point, I noticed her rubbing her neck, so I offered to work on her muscles for her. At first, she was appreciative, but after a few minutes, she suddenly got awkward and went to bed. She tossed and turned for a while, until eventually she came out and insisted that we needed to talk. She said we needed to establish boundaries between us."

I put my hand on his forearm. "What did you tell her?"

"I said that I couldn't do that. Then, I made up some story that I told her was an ancient legend in my tribe, about an angry warrior whose tribe was captured by a female warrior, and he promised to do whatever he could to support her."

I smiled. "And she didn't jump you right there? Because that definitely would have worked on me."

He chuckled, then grew quiet again. "Actually, she cried. She knew it wasn't really an ancient legend, but it ended the discussion. She never said anything about us again, and, after that, she finally started to settle down."

"Tay," I said, gently squeezing his arm. "Are you in love with her?"

He looked at me for several long seconds, deciding whether or not to answer my invasive question. I honestly didn't expect him to tell me, but after a pause, he admitted the truth aloud. "I've loved her ever since the day she rescued me from Seska."

"Then maybe it's time you told her that."

* * *

Later the same day, I met with Kathryn. She, too, checked out fine on my pathological assessment. I set down the PADD and transitioned into the talk portion of our session. "How do you feel about being back on _Voyager_?"

She smiled and lifted her chin. "It's good to be back.”

"Do you feel any disappointment with Tuvok or the rest of the crew for going against your orders not to contact the Vidiians?"

"I was concerned about the situation, a little frustrated perhaps. But, I can't say I was disappointed in anyone. In all honesty, I probably would have done the same thing myself."

"Do you feel any sadness at leaving New Earth?"

"Well, I suppose it did start to grow on me towards the end. But, I spent most of my time on research."

"Until the plasma storm destroyed your equipment,” I said.

”That’s right.”

”How did that affect you?"

She glanced down at her hands, which were folded tightly in her lap. "It was devastating.” She looked at me. “The whole time we'd been there, Chakotay kept trying to convince me to give up and accept our fate, but I knew I could solve the puzzle if I could just find a few more of the pieces. Then, just when I had thought I was about to find something big, it was all gone."

"How did you cope with that loss?"

"The only thing I could do— I reviewed all of the data that you, Dr. Schmullis, and the away teams had collected. If I wasn't going to find any more pieces of the puzzle, then I would just have to solve it with what I had."

I smiled. "Always the stubborn scientist."

She raised her hands with a shrug. "What else?"

"Then what happened?"

She thought back for a moment before responding. "Well, I worked on that for several days, until…" her words trailed off.

"Until what?"

"I'm not sure. Life happened. Something changed, and it just didn't matter as much anymore. I guess I finally started to let go."

"What changed?"

"I took up gardening."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

"We talked about building a boat, exploring the river, going camping."

"Okay," I said, shifting my approach. "What was it that made you decide to let go of your research and settle into those kinds of activities instead?"

She looked down at her hands again. "He said that he would do anything he could to make my burden lighter," she finally admitted.

"Why did that affect you so strongly?"

She sighed, and met my eyes. "I'd spent too much time hunched over a screen. My knots were getting knots. Chakotay noticed and offered to help. He said he used to do it for his mother— giving neck rubs." She smiled at the memory, but then became troubled. "I think we both realized it then, that our relationship had changed."

"How so?"

"I wasn't sure, but I didn't want him to get the wrong impression, so I suggested that we talk it out, establish boundaries."

"What kind of boundaries?"

She flinched. "I think you already know the answer."

"Do _you_?"

"I... had to stop any tension before it began."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

I smiled. "The only thing that's obvious to me is that you do your absolute best to isolate yourself, and to convince yourself that you can stand alone."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"When it's unnecessary, yes. Kathryn, you are one of the most strong and capable women I've met— and I'm a Bajoran. We're known for fierce women. At times, you remind me of my mother. More science, less politics and battle, of course, and a good bit younger, but you have a similar _pagh_ — resilient, unflinching, and protective of your own. But, even she allowed herself to be happy. It never changed who she is. If anything, marrying my father and raising us made her stronger."

She hesitated for a beat before she spoke. "Forgive me for saying this, but it didn't exactly work out for them."

"Is that what you're afraid of? A bad ending?"

"That is exactly why I cannot allow myself to pursue romantic relationships here. It could tear the crew apart. They deserve better from their captain."

I stroked my chin, debating how to proceed. "Most people don't realize this, but my parents are still together. Marnah no more left my father than she left any of us. When she went to Valo III, the Maquis had barely begun to form, let alone envelope the Bajoran Resistance. She went to help the refugees, not to make herself an enemy of the Federation. She always intended to return to us when her work was done; it broke her heart when Starfleet Intelligence put a warrant on her and cut off our communication. But my parents, well, they find ways around it, because they love each other.

"Few things are harder to cope with than the guilt of missed chances. If my parents taught me anything, it's that love is worth the risk. It's worth dropping everything to meet her at a starbase, just to tell her you'll do anything to be together. It's worth believing in, even when you're fighting on opposing sides of a rebellion." I smiled, and warmth flushed my cheeks. "It's worth pushing back against the orders of two captains, just to make the family whole again."

She smiled back, and a million emotions seemed to dance in her glassy eyes.

I paused. "It's worth risking some awkward moments with your first officer to at least admit to him how you feel, and maybe to find that you're not so alone in the Delta Quadrant as you might think."

* * *

With the past three months finally behind us, Harry and I went on a real date. When I got to the holodeck, Harry already had a program running— ruins of the Sutro Baths in Lands End National Park, San Francisco. I sat beside him on a blanket where we could watch the sunset over the ocean.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, planting a kiss on my temple.

“Great choice,” I said. “I love this place.”

"Me, too.”

I rested my head against his shoulder as he stroked my hair, closing my eyes and forgetting that we were on the holodeck. A salty breeze blew in from the ocean as the tide ebbed and flowed against the shore. We sat in silence for several minutes, letting the peace of the moment heal our wounded souls.

Finally, he broke the silence. “I hear you're planning the Terran holiday party with Neelix.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I also heard we’re not doing a gift exchange.”

“Well, not all traditions do that. Besides, it would be quite a drain on replicator rations.”

“Mm,” was his only reply before he pulled out a small case with a red ribbon around it, and handed it to me.

“Harry—” I whispered.

He grinned and gestured for me to open it. Untying the ribbon, I opened the case to reveal a small, yellow data card inside.

“It's a holoprogram,” he said. “It took a lot of research— sifting through the database, looking at schematics and photos. I still don't know how accurate it is, but I think it's pretty close. Tom said he'll help you make any tweaks you want before we run it.”

“What’s the program?”

“Midnight Mass at St. Mary’s. I have holodeck one reserved for zero-hour on Christmas Day.”

I couldn't speak. My mind emptied of words. All I had was overwhelming gratitude, but I didn't know how to express it. For generations, my family had been members of the historic St. Mary’s Church just off base. That cathedral had been part of our heritage almost since the birth of Starfleet. Harry knew how much his gift would mean to me.

“I know it's pretty early, but, merry Christmas.”

“How long have you been been working on this?” I asked.

"About two months.”

Tears filled my eyes _._ “Why? I was so awful to you.”

Harry cradled my face in his hands. “It wasn't your fault. You can be as awful as you want, and I’d still do anything to make you happy, because I—” He stopped short, likely remembering some advice from Tom not to use the word ‘ _love’_ with me.

I smiled through the tears sliding down my cheeks. “It's okay. You can say it. I won’t run away.”

He wiped my tears away. “I love you, Talia.”

“I love you, too, Harry,” I whispered.

With a tenderness that could only come from him, Harry pressed his lips to mine. He showed me the infinite depth of his love in soft, sweet kiss after kiss. 

As our kisses became more urgent, we shifted onto our knees. I wrapped my arms around his body, pulling him to me. When my hips met his, I gasped at the feeling of his arousal and rocked against him, a surge of pleasure searing my blood. We both moaned. I dragged my fingers around the waistband of his pants and fidgeted with the clasp.

Harry pulled back, dark eyes questioning. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I want to be closer to you. I want to show you... I love you.”

“So do I,” he panted before taking my mouth again.

I tugged his shirt over his head, and he pulled my dress over mine. We never even stopped to take a breath, breathing in only each other. We quickly did away with the last of our clothes, and our flurry of motion suddenly stopped when we saw each other completely for the first time.

The colors of the sunset splashed across his skin like paint, and I thought that he was the most beautiful canvas I had ever seen. I grazed his muscled form with the tips of my fingers, overcome by the need to know him fully and intimately.

It was intoxicating.

Fingers were followed by mouth and tongue as I savored his salty skin. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back and exposed his throat to me like a jewel. I lavished it with kisses until he trembled. Slowly, I made my way down his body, kissing and tasting every inch of him until he begged for a break from the pleasure.

When I relented, he took his own turn to explore my body, just as I had explored his. Although I loved the feel of his lips anywhere, he quickly found out my most sensitive areas and gave extra attention to them as he coaxed me towards release.

Only after I came the first time did he lay me down on the blanket and slide into my skin.

The love we made that evening was more than I could ever put into words. Together, we stripped everything away until our bodies and souls became one. When it was over, we clung to one another for as long as we could, neither one wanting to separate from the other. We filled our mouths with bruising kisses, hungry tongues, and breathy whispers of “I love you” repeating over and over.

When he finally fell away from me, Harry whispered, “That was the most amazing thing. I didn't want it to end.”

Suddenly, I realized I was standing on the edge of the real plunge. It wasn't having sex, or even making love, but offering up the deepest parts of my soul and laying it bare before him. It was utterly terrifying, but at that moment, I thought I could never want anything more than to jump in.

So, I smiled at him, kissed him deeply, and made a promise to us both. “It won't. I’m so in love with you that I can't, for the life of me, imagine why I would ever want this to end.”

He pressed his forehead against mine. “Neither can I.”

Together, we dozed off under the dusky San Francisco sky.


	19. Face of the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager receives a distress call from Seska, and decide to mount a rescue mission for her and her newborn son. When they find her, they learn the shocking truth about her Cardassian identity, and uncover the reasons why she acted the way she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episodes: VOY 2x26 "Basics, part 1" & DS9 3x09 "Second Skin"
> 
> CW: Non-graphic references to/descriptions of violence against a mother, infant, and perpetrator. Non-graphic description of injuries. Infanticide.

Personal Log, Eelo Talia: Stardate 49984.5

Christmas Day was perfect.

Harry's Midnight Mass program was amazing. Neither he nor Tom had been inside St. Mary's Cathedral more than once or twice, but it was very close to how I remembered it. I cried when I sat in the pew that Grandma usually claimed for herself, half expecting her to walk in at any moment. The candlelight service was beautiful, and most of the senior staff came even though none of them are Catholic. I haven't felt so loved since the day I graduated from Starfleet Medical, when my dad managed to get the Hepburn crew enough leave so they could attend.

Christmas evening was the Terran holiday party, and it went off without a hitch. Chakotay offered a brief anthropological lesson on the development of winter solstice traditions on Earth, I read from the Gospel according to St. Luke, Lieutenant Herschel told the story of the Maccabean Revolt in ancient Israel, and Ensign Swinn gave a speech about the seven principles of Kwanzaa. Then, Neelix broke out the most vile homemade liquor I'd ever had, and we all did our best to keep it down.

In classic Terran fashion, we'll be throwing yet another party in six days to close out the current year and kick off the next one. Of course, Tom has been making borderline tasteless comments about finding someone to kiss him at zero hour. I told him he could borrow Harry, but he wasn’t very interested.

Ever since he worked things out with Neelix, and moved on from his crush on Kes, Tom seems to have developed some feelings for B'Elanna. That, of course, is dangerous for a completely different set of reasons. The thing about them is, if they could get past the risk of mutual annihilation, they could be great for each other.

But, that's a very big ‘ _if_.’

Then, there's Captain Janeway and Chakotay. No one knows for sure what their relationship has become in the last month, but they seem to have grown rather close.

* * *

"You know," Tom observed, nodding towards Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay, "they've been looking more and more friendly ever since they got back from that planet."

The pair were standing off to the port side of the room, deep in conversation, as the crew was gathered in the mess hall to celebrate the new year.

"I hear they've gone on at least six dates in the last month," Harry said.

" _Six_?" B'Elanna asked, her eyebrows raised. "I heard it was more like three."

"Either way," Tom sighed, "at least they have someone to kiss at zero-hour. They have each other, the Delaneys both have parters now, Swinn has Hogan, Neelix has Kes, and—“ He gestured to me and Harry— “you two have each other.” He turned to B'Elanna. "What do you say, B'Elanna? It isn't New Year's without someone to kiss."

"Try it, and I'll break your nose."

Harry and I snorted with laughter.

"Talia," Neelix greeted as he approached me, pulling me aside. "Tell me, how do Bajorans say, ' _Happy New Year_ '?"

"Actually, we don't," I replied. "The Bajoran new year coincides with the Gratitude Festival, and we say, ' _peldar Joi_ ,' or ' _happy Gratitude_.' But it won't come up for several more months."

"Ah," he said, slightly disappointed. "I suppose I'll just stick with the Terran greeting then."

"What's wrong, Neelix? You look bothered about something."

His eyes moved over to where Kes was talking with Lon. "I don't like how Crewman Suder is looking at her.”

"Neelix," I said, drawing his attention back to me. "Lon gets both his visual and empathetic sensory input by looking at people, which can make his gaze seem more intense than most. There's nothing to worry about. Kes' friendship has actually helped him grow a lot as a person. You should be proud of her."

"Friendship. I think he's got more than _friendship_ on his mind."

"Your jealousy is misplaced, my friend."

His bushy eyebrows cinched together when he frowned. "What do you mean?"

I suppressed a laugh at Neelix’s confusion. "Lon is gay."

The man's mouth dropped open slightly as he processed this new revelation. "Really? You mean he's not— he doesn't—"

"Kes isn't his type _at all_. They're just friends."

He nodded, relaxing somewhat. "Just… friends."

"Exactly.” I placed a hand on his arm. "Neelix, is this the first time you've been jealous for Kes' affection ever since you worked things out with Tom, or have you been hiding things from me?"

"Well, I-I suppose sometimes… once or twice, maybe… I've felt some… _concern_ … for Kes. I mean, she's just such a trusting person, you know, she never sees the bad in anyone. But jealous? Now that's, that's a strong word."

I lifted an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a little jealous. But I've kept it to myself! I haven't said or done anything about it, not even once! I've kept my anxiety under control, just like you taught me, and I've never missed a treatment."

"Hey," I said, squeezing his arm gently. "I know that; you've been doing such a good job managing yourself over the past year. But, Neelix, can I make a suggestion?"

"Of course."

"In counseling, we have a specific branch of therapy devoted to helping couples talk through and strengthen their relationships. The key to a healthy long-term relationship is communication, but it's not always easy to do without a mediator. Why don't you talk to Kes, and see if she'd be interested in scheduling some sessions with me so I can work with you two as a couple."

He stroked his whiskers as he considered my suggestion, then nodded. "You know, now that I think about it, that may be not be a bad idea. Couples… counseling. Yes. Very good."

"But don't be pushy about it when you bring it up with Kes, okay? She has the right to say no, and you cannot take it personally if she doesn't want to go. Do you understand?"

He nodded earnestly. "Yes, of course, of course. No, her decision. Right. Very good." He smiled. "Thank you, Talia."

I patted his arm proudly before dropping my hand to my side. "Any time, Neelix."

* * *

A few days later, _Voyager_ received a distress call.

 _"Chakotay,"_ Seska pleaded, green eyes full of desperation and fear, _"they're going to take your son. When Culluh saw the baby—“_ She glanced at the door behind her. _“I hear them coming. I don't have much time. When he saw the baby wasn't his— Please Chakotay, help us. Not for me; for your son."_

* * *

"It makes sense," Captain Janeway said to Chakotay as he paced across her ready room. She watched him with concern from the raised deck where her couch and coffee table were situated. "It might all be true."

" _What_?" I didn’t bother to hide my surprise. “No, I don’t buy that. This is obviously a trap."

She gripped the guardrail sectioning off the lounge area from the rest of her office. "We don't know that for certain.”

I straightened from where I had been resting my hip against the captain’s desk. "Of course we do! She's followed us for nearly two years, trying again and again to take the ship. All she does is lie. We don't even know who she really is!”

Janeway crossed her arms. "Right now, Commander, all we know is that she is the mother of a newborn Federation citizen who may be in grave danger."

Chakotay stopped beside me, gripping the back of a chair for support. "Still, the safest thing would be to ignore this message and resume our course."

I looked into his eyes. "You owe that child nothing, Chakotay."

"I'm not going to resume our course just yet," Janeway said. "I want you to think about it, Chakotay. This has to be your decision. If you choose to go after him—" she cast a pointed glance at me— "this crew _will_ stand behind you."

* * *

In spite of my counsel, Chakotay decided to go after his son. After some discussions with Neelix and the senior staff, Janeway had Tom set a course to follow the warp trail that Cullah's ship had left behind. It wasn't long before the trail diverged, with a smaller warp trail splitting off from Cullah's and moving out of Kazon space. We decided to follow the new trail, and eventually caught up to a Kazon shuttle with one very weak Cardassian lifesign.

It was Seska. Her baby was not on board.

Janeway had Seska beamed directly to sickbay, sending me with Chakotay to see her. When we arrived, Kes and Dr. Schmullis were rapidly working to stabilize her condition. She was covered in blood, soaking through her clothes and filling the room with with the sour smell of copper and infection. Although it looked like most of the blood could have been her own, her face was clearly spattered with someone else's.

I slipped my hand into Chakotay's and gave it a squeeze. He didn’t pull away, but neither did he return the gesture. He was frozen, jaw clenched and eyes hard as he watched Seska fight to cling to life.

Once Dr. Schmullis had stabilized Seska’s condition, he sent Kes to run blood samples in the medlab. Then, he came to brief us. "She'll be fine. Kazon medical science is quite rudimentary, but even they should have done a better job on her postnatal care. She delivered no more than seventy-two hours ago. They used a laser regenerator to repair tears to her perineum, but whoever did it clearly didn't know what they were doing. The wounds reopened and became infected. A few more hours without medical care, and she would have been dead."

"When can we talk with her?" Chakotay asked.

"It'll take a few hours for her fever to come down. I'll let you know when I think she's ready."

"Doctor," Kes called from the lab. When we rushed into the other room to join her, she looked up from the microviewer. "I have confirmed four separate DNA samples on Seska's skin and clothes."

" _Four_?" Chakotay asked, horrified.

"Yes. The first is her own, the second and third belong to two different Kazon males, and the fourth—" She hesitated, fixing Chakotay with a deeply pained look. "The fourth is another male, with genetic markers matching both human and Cardassian DNA. I ran a comparative analysis against your DNA record, Commander. The fourth blood sample is definitely from your son."

Seska's weak voice called out from the surgical bay. " _Yad'o_." 

The universal translator had, of course, conveyed her words in Federation Standard. She was calling for her father.

Chakotay and I were the first to return to sickbay, but we both stopped short of Seska's periphery. Neither of us was ready to face her.

Kes breezed past us and went to Seska's bedside. "It's alright, you're safe now.”

Seska's eyes moved about the room, but seemed unable to focus on anything. When she spoke, she spoke only in Kardasi. "Am I at home? Am I on Cardassia?"

Dr. Schmullis began scanning her with a medical tricorder. "She's still feverish. I doubt she has any idea what's going on right now."

Seska grabbed Schmullis by the collar and yanked him off-balance. "Do you know who I am, you alien?" she spat in her native tongue. "I want to see my father, Tekeny Ghemor. I order you to get him, now!"

My eyes widened. Schmullis, having little patience for the situation, asked Kes for a sedative. My courage returning, I stepped in between Schmullis and Seska. When I spoke, I spoke in Kardasi. "Is this Legate Tekeny Ghemor? You are Iliana Ghemor?"

* * *

"How in the _hell_ do you know about a missing deep-cover agent of the Obsidian Order?" Captain Janeway demanded, rounding her desk towards me.

I shrugged. "Before I transferred to Chakotay's cell, I may-or-may-not have been involved in a major raid on the Chin'toka System… where I may-or-may-not have translated a few Cardassian intelligence files for the Maquis. Not that I remember anything at all from those files, of course."

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "You can read Cardassian?"

"Well enough," I said. "I studied it for my xenolinguistics courses. It's not all that different from Bajoran, actually. The tricky part is translating it into Federation Standard."

"Impressive," Tuvok noted.

"The thing is, Captain," I continued, "I saw a picture of Iliana. Seska looks nothing like her."

"Given the extensive alterations she underwent in order to appear convincingly Bajoran," Tuvok pointed out, "it is possible that some of the alterations were more permanent than others, whether by consequence of the procedures, or by intention."

"Intention?" Chakotay asked. "You mean, you think they may have wanted her to look like a different person, even after reversing the procedure?"

"It would be in the best interests of the Obsidian Order to protect their assets from all possible methods of discovery. Do you not find it suspicious that they would keep a file with a photo of a deep-cover agent in their database?"

"The Chin'toka system isn't exactly a minor outpost," Chakotay argued. "Fayeni got a lot of good intel from that raid. Besides, Ghemor's daughter had been missing for years. Everything the Maquis found about her implicated that she had been killed in action while she was infiltrating the resistance on Bajor."

"Yeah, but what a way to throw us off her trail, right?" I mused, considering Tuvok's position. "Putting all of that info there, completely changing herself into someone else, probably more than once. Dr. Schmullis said she wasn't just altered cosmetically, but they went so far as to resequence her genome. It's why she can't fully recover her Cardassian features now."

"Not to mention that she was in a fever-induced delusion when she asked to see her father," Janeway pointed out. "I don't see much reason to doubt it."

"In that case, Captain," Tuvok said, "I will need to brief my security teams on the matter. A highly trained agent of the Cardassian Obsidian Order, no matter how injured, is not a threat to be taken lightly."

Janeway nodded. "Agreed.”

Tuvok promptly left the room.

The com chirped, then projected Harry’s voice at us. "Bridge to Captain Janeway.”

"Go ahead, Harry."

"Captain, I've retrieved an audio log from Seska's shuttle, and I think you and Commander Chakotay will want to hear it."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. We'll take it in here." She swiveled her computer around and played the message.

" _He killed our son, Chakotay_ ," came Seska's labored voice. " _Cullah murdered our son. But, I killed him. I slit his throat with the same blade he used on my child_." Her voice dropped into a low growl. " _I'll kill them. I'll kill them all for what they've done_." She let out a yelp of pain, and the recording promptly ended.

The silence in the room was palpable. Chakotay stood on the upper deck of Janeway's ready room, arms crossed tight against his chest as he stared silently out of the viewport. In twenty-four hours, he'd gone from unwilling genetic donor to the child of a traitor, to accepting he had a son, to finding out that his son had been brutally murdered within hours of birth. His pain threatened to choke us all out, but we had to keep moving forward. There was no telling if the Nistrim might come after Seska, and nobody knew what to expect from her when she woke up.

After a long, tense moment, Chakotay found his voice. "Any chance this could still be a trick?"

I honestly couldn't tell if he was trying to make a joke, or if he was desperately grasping for any kind of hope that his son might still be alive. I exchanged a glance with Janeway. "It's possible, I suppose. Part of me still thinks so. But, Cardassians value family more than they value their own lives. As much as I want to believe the worst of her—"

He sighed and hung his head. "Yeah, I know."

Janeway moved towards the upper deck, drawn to comfort him. I put a hand on her arm, stopping her. "Captain, maybe I should go start on my report." I gave her a knowing look. I was giving her a chance to hold onto professionalism and steal a moment alone with the man she had come to care so deeply about.

She nodded, seeming to catch onto my true intent. "Very good, Commander. Keep me informed."

* * *

A couple hours later, Dr. Schmullis called me into sickbay. Seska's fever had broken, and she was awake. I honestly had no idea what to expect when I walked into that room, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

She didn't taunt me the way she used to. She didn't speak at all. Her body was curled in on itself, just as tightly as she could handle with her injuries. It was clear that she was still in a great deal of pain. Her green eyes were lifeless as she stared blankly at the wall by the biobed.

The woman looked like an emotional wasteland.

 _‘She made her bed_ ,’ I had told Chakotay the day before. ‘ _It's time we let her lie in it. I won't die for that Kardasi bitch.’_

I took a breath and swallowed hard, willing my feet forward yet entirely twisted up inside. I reminded myself that she was a mother who has witnessed the brutal murder of her own child, and did my very best to show her some compassion when I spoke.

Seska just stared right past me.

* * *

I worked late that evening, only taking a quick break for dinner before going back to sickbay. When I finally got to my quarters that night, I sighed long and deep as I dropped a stack of PADDs on the accent table by my door.

"Computer, lights.” I pinched my nose ridges between thumb and forefinger. I could have sworn that I felt a headache coming on, except it wasn't really there. The stress was deeper inside of me than that.

Dropping my hand, I unzipped my jacket as I walked towards the bedroom. The door slid open, light spilling in behind me and illuminating the bare skin of a man in my bed.

I jumped, hand reaching for my knife, only to realize that it was Harry wearing nothing but grey boxers and a matching undershirt. He laid on top of the bed, propped on his side and holding a red rose in his mouth.

Letting out my breath, I noticed that his uniform was neatly folded on my dresser. Overachiever. I tossed my jacket on top. "What is this?"

He took the rose from his lips and offered it to me. "I heard you had a bad day.”

"I did.” I accepted the rose and laid beside him. "But, at the moment, I can't even remember why." He smiled just before I slanted my mouth over his.

* * *

Later, I laid awake, listening to Harry's breathing grow deeper with sleep while the darkness crept its way inside of me once again. The longer I laid there, staring up at the ceiling, the more restless I became. Finally, I got up and walked into the main room, hugging my arms around my waist as I came to a stop in front of the viewport. Starlight silently streaked around our warp field; we had decided to leave Seska's stolen shuttle behind and resume our course towards the Alpha Quadrant.

For better or worse, we were stuck with her. At the same time, she was stuck with a counselor who would rather see her dead than help her recover from the unspeakable trauma that shattered her. I had no idea what to do next.

I was so lost inside my own thoughts that I didn't hear Harry get out of bed and walk up behind me. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around me, tucking me into his chest and pressing a kiss to my hair. I closed my eyes and sighed at the feel of his skin against mine, and I wondered if it was possible to absorb his innate goodness into myself through the touch.

 _Or_ , a darker voice said, _will I corrupt his soul with the same disease that's consuming mine?_

I recoiled at the thought. How many ways would I imagine myself hurting him?

He felt my muscles tense and squeezed me tighter. "What's going on? Please talk to me."

I took a deep breath, and plunged into the dreaded waters of self-revelation. "I hate her, Harry. I hate her all the way into my _pagh_. How can I rehabilitate her when I'm so consumed by this?"

"I don't know. But, you can't blame yourself for it, after everything she's done. No one could expect you to feel anything else."

"Starfleet trains its counselors to handle dual relationships. We do our best, but it isn’t always something we can avoid— especially on deep space missions. I've always been able to set aside personal feelings for therapy. I’ve learned to compartmentalize, look past emotional ties, and analyze from a distance. I know how to disconnect and shut myself down when I have to. But, I can't this time, and I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You can't expect yourself to be everything to everyone, my love. It was obvious that you two didn't get along before, and after what she's done... nobody expects you to be neutral on this."

"I do," I whispered. "Dr. Schmullis does. Captain Janeway does. Starfleet policy does. This is my job. I am the only counselor here. I can't send her to someone else, so I have to distance myself somehow." I shook my head. "I have to."

* * *

"It sounds to me like your problem isn't with Seska," Chakotay observed as we sat in his office the next morning. "It's with Cardassians."

I blinked. "What? You mean, as a whole?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"No! Of course not! How could you say that?"

"Talia, they committed genocide against your people, slaughtered your mother's family. Surely, Fayeni's anger wasn't entirely veiled throughout your childhood. Then, you spent a year and a half fighting them alongside the Maquis, watching them oppress and slaughter Federation and Bajoran citizens alike. Why are you so surprised at this?"

"Well, sure, I dislike their government and military, but I know better than to hold that against the entire species."

He leaned forward and tapped a finger on my forehead. "You know that here.” He moved his finger down to my chest. “But do you know that here?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Was he right? "Do you? Hate Cardassians, I mean."

"They murdered my family. Slaughtered my tribe. What do you think?"

Just then, the com chirped. "Dr. Schmullis to Commanders Chakotay and Eelo."

Chakotay tapped his combadge. "Go ahead, Doctor."

"If you could, please, I would like you to report to sickbay immediately. I have some test results on our patient that I think you both need to see."

* * *

"At Lieutenant Commander Eelo's recommendation, I performed a full neuro-imaging scan of our patient's brain.”

Captain Janeway, Chakotay, and I stood in front of Dr. Schmullis’ desk, listening with wrapt attention as he briefed us on his findings. He turned to the console on the back wall and pulled up the resultant scan. "Take a look."

The image of Seska’s brain rotated on the display, pausing every so often to zoom in on one region after another. 

" _Un'Bentel_ ," I breathed in shock, the irony of invoking the Prophets for a Kardasi traitor lost within the unspeakable emotions that knifed through me. I leaned forward as I watched the image continue to move, highlighting some of the most extensive neurological damage I'd ever seen.

Schmullis continued. "Neurotransmitter and hormonal levels are indicative of depression and anxiety. She has some HPA axis irregularities that are consistent with Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Her neural patterns are consistent with Antisocial Personality Disorder, and the severely inhibited activity in the orbital and ventromedial cortex is symptomatic of psychopathy. Furthermore, I have reason to believe that some of these patterns have been in place for several years, and are undergirded by her Cardassian genome."

"You'd think the Obsidian Order would want their agents to have a clean bill of psychological health before going undercover," Janeway said.

"She has the genetic markers that can predispose a person to aggressive and psychopathic tendencies, but that alone wouldn't make her a psychopath," Schmullis explained. "If anything, it would make her more efficient at her job, though it's hard to tell how much she was born with and what resulted from her genetic resequencing. As for the neurological damage, that came later, and most of it seems to be the result of a procedure they performed on her combined with one unexpected encounter."

He tapped one of the notes on the side of the brain image, calling forward a specific analysis. "Her memory engrams appear to have been repeatedly tampered with. My guess is that they suppressed her own natural memories and implanted foreign ones extracted from a Bajoran brain. Later, they reversed the procedure. It appears that they did this more than once. But, the last time they restructured her engrams, the procedure wasn't medically reversed."

Chakotay frowned. "Then how does she know she's a Cardassian agent?"

"Her suppressed memories were forced back into her conscious mind when she came in contact with the high-energy coherent tetryon beam used by the Caretaker entity. Whatever medications, procedures, and therapy they have on Cardassia Prime to perform the reversal successfully has not been available to her, meaning she has been under significant psychological distress ever since the memories resurfaced. This stress has radically altered her synaptic patterns."

Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were, naturally, full of questions. ‘ _Does this mean that she was entirely unaware that she was a Cardassian agent until after the Caretaker pulled the Val Jean into the Delta Quadrant? How much of her memory has she retained from both the Iliana and the Seska identities? Can the neurological damage be treated? Is she still refusing to speak to anyone?’_

As for me, my heartbeat suddenly seemed so much louder in my head. Slowly, I stepped away from Schmullis' desk and stood by the window dividing his office from sickbay, staring out at at the motionless woman who still held herself in the fetal position on a biobed.

Seska. Iliana. I couldn't even begin to imagine the weight of two identities in the same head at the same time. She really had cared about Chakotay and B'Elanna. She really had resented me for taking Chakotay from her. She had meant it all. How awful it all must have felt when Iliana was awakened too soon, forcing Seska to realize that we could never be her family, driving her away from us and into the abuse of the man who would murder her only true family right before her eyes.

So, she did to Cullah exactly what my mother had done to the Cardassians who slaughtered her family; she cut that fucker's throat and ran for her life.

I pressed my right hand against the glass as I watched her, and all the hatred in my soul shattered under the weight of the pain this woman carried. It wasn't her fault.

It wasn't her fault.


	20. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seska finally speaks, but she leaves Talia with more questions than answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Non-graphic depictions of violence, death, torture, and threat of rape (no rape actually occurs).

We were halfway through downloading the Korma outpost database when the first shots were fired.

Seska, Sean and I ducked behind the console we had been working at and pulled out our disruptors. We exchanged fire with Kardasi soldiers across the room, surges of deadly energy screeching back and forth. Between the loud sounds, I heard one of their soldiers seal the doors, trapping us inside. I could only presume that the silence beyond meant our guard team was dead.

Peeking over the ledge of the console, I counted ten soldiers. One by one, we took them out. At some point, Sean got hit in the head with a blast; he was killed immediately. I landed a shot squarely on his killer's chest.

The next thing I knew, the console was hit, and it exploded in our faces, throwing us to the deck. I lost my distuptor, so I grabbed my knife.

Before I could get to my feet, a Kardasi soldier jumped over the console and pinned me to the floor. I forced my blade through the side of his cuirass and buried it to hilt, penetrating his heart. The soldier’s grey eyes widened as I slapped a hand over his mouth to silence his yell. With any luck, his comrades were merely standing guard, waiting for him to claim me as his trophy. I twisted the blade and yanked it out.

The soldier’s body collapsed on me, soaking me in his blood.

I glanced over at Seska, who had been knocked unconscious from the blast. She was burned, but still breathing. Rolling the dead soldier under me, I grabbed the distuptor from his belt and checked the power cell.

Dead.

Any spare cells he had were gone, perhaps given to his friends. They could attack at any moment. Glancing around at the debris littering the deck, I got an idea.

I grabbed the largest piece of bulkhead within reach, hoisted it over my head, and launched it at the last two soldiers. As it sailed through the air towards them, I cleared the console and lunged, hoping to snatch a disrupter from one of the men while they were distracted.

The smaller soldier cried out in pain as the bulkhead pinned him to the deck, but the larger soldier dodged. He grabbed me by the hair and threw me to the deck. As he leaned over me, I kicked the disruptor from his hands, sending it flying across the room. He simply laughed, grabbed me by my neck, and dangled me in the air like a doll.

"Look at this tiny little thing," he gloated to his comrade. "She has spunk."

What he didn't realize was that I still had my blade in hand, concealed against my wrist.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I locked my ankles behind his back and sliced open the artery in his arm, forcing him to let me go. With my next cut, I slashed his throat to the bone.

I dropped to the floor before he fell, coughing and gagging for air. When I looked for the other soldier, I found him on his feet about a meter away, pointing a distuptor at me. He trembled slightly, already going into shock at the sight of me covered in his comrade’s blood. As I looked into his eyes, the rage that had fueled me fell away; the Cardassian standing before me was an adolescent boy, not a man. For all I knew, he had just watched me brutally murder his father. Perhaps this post had been part of his training, but he was the only one left alive.

"Go," I said.

He looked at me with confusion. "What?"

" _Juq_!" I yelled in Kardasi. "Get out of here before my comrades come and kill you!"

Although he seemed to briefly consider my offer, his expression hardened with determination. "No.” His finger trembled on the trigger as he declared my death for his beloved state. " _loxKardasia_."

Just then, from beyond the doors that the soldiers had sealed when they attacked us, I heard Chakotay's muffled voice shouting my name. This distracted the boy for just a moment, but it was all I needed. I whipped my knife at him. The blade sunk deep into his eye. He immediately dropped his distuptor, screaming and clawing at his face.

His hand had barely found the hilt of my blade when I shot him with his own discarded weapon.

 _He was dead anyway_ , I told myself as I watched him stagger and sink to the floor. I wrenched my knife from his skull, bringing his eye out with it. My stomach lurched. I fell to my hands and knees beside the boy, vomiting every last bit of whatever precious little I'd had in my stomach.

As I struggled to catch my breath, I felt a large hand grasp my shoulder. Before I could react, my back slammed to the deck. I gripped the hilt of my knife tightly and swung it forward, sitting up with a shout that I didn't think I had the air to make.

But, my attacker wasn't there.

"Talia?" Harry’s voice was panicked.

I panted as I took in my surroundings. I wasn't at a Cardassian outpost, pinned under a soldier who meant to torture me to death; I was in bed next to a man who loved me, in my quarters on _Voyager_.

"Talia, you're safe," Harry insisted. "Please, put down the knife." I nodded and loosened my grip, allowing him to take it from me. He set the knife on his nightstand and turned back to me, rubbing circles on my back. My muscles were so tight. "Must have been some bad dream.”

"I'm sorry," I panted. My throat stung, still sore from the choking grip of the Kardasi soldier’s big hand. "I haven't had one of those in almost a year."

"You've had it before?"

I nodded, satisfied that I was unhurt and dropping my hands into my lap. "Flashbacks to the war. I used to have them nightly when I first came to _Voyager_. I had to be treated for PTSD. Only Chakotay, Captain Janeway, and Dr. Schmullis knew." Suddenly, my adrenaline dropped off, and my whole body was racked with aches. I folded over myself and moaned quietly.

"Here, let's get you to sickbay."

I shook my head. "No need. Schmullis gave me a mild analgesic to keep here for this sort of thing. But could you get me a glass of water, please?"

He nodded and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Yeah, of course."

While he went to the replicator in the other room, I fumbled through the drawer of my nightstand. Pulling out a hypospray, I programmed the dose and pressed it to my neck. Almost as soon as the drug hit my bloodstream, the aching subsided.

Harry returned and handed me the water before climbing back into bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I drained the glass and set it on my nightstand. "I promise you, you don't want to hear about it."

He grasped my shoulder, compelling me to meet his eyes. "Yes, I do."

"No, you don't understand. I killed people, Harry. Lots of people. Some with my bare hands. And they—“ I gulped, phantom aches arising in the scars of my hands. “—they hurt me. It was brutal. Inhuman. Nobody should ever have to learn about the horrible things people can do to each other."

"I don't care, Talia. You need to talk. I'll listen." He pressed his palm against my cheek. "I won't run away, and I won't love you any less."

I wanted to tell him. Baring my soul to him, piece by piece, had been such a healing experience thus far. After a long moment, I proceeded to tell him about my dream.

"Who grabbed you?" he asked after I stopped talking.

"One of the soldiers who had been shot before the console exploded. I guess he had only been stunned. He caught me completely off guard. Kicked my knife out of my hand and pulled one of his own. He could have grabbed a disruptor from the floor, but he knew who I was; he wanted me to suffer."

I shuddered and wrung my hands as I remembered how hard it had been to breathe with the officer's weight pressing down on me. He knew exactly where to cut me to extract the most possible pain, and he took pleasure in making me scream. He had reveled in the fact that my lover was right outside the door.

 _‘He can listen while I fuck you, daughter of Eelo_ ,’ he had whispered to me in Kardasi. ‘ _And_ _then he will listen as you drown in your own blood.’_

Thankfully, he had never gotten that far. Sometimes, in my dreams, he did.

Every muscle in Harry's body tensed as he heard my story, trembling with a rare but powerful anger. I hadn't meant to tell him everything, but it slipped out like a thorn that had worked its own way out of my foot. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly against his chest. I sighed with relief at having finally spoken the whole truth aloud.

After taking several deep breaths to soothe his rage, he prodded me on. "What happened?"

I strained to speak against the ache in my throat. "Seska came to and shot him from behind. Pulled his body off of me and spat on it. Then she— she carried me out of there herself."

"Is that why you had that dream? Because of Seska?"

"Maybe," I whispered.

He swallowed hard. "I had no idea it was like that. I'm so sorry."

"Aren't you disgusted with me?" I asked, my breath condensing into tiny droplets of moisture on his skin. "I killed men and women with families who loved them. I murdered a boy who wasn't even old enough to buy his own kanar, and I didn't have to think about it. It was just a reflex. Isn't that repulsive to you?"

He pulled back and put a hand under my chin, looking me squarely in the eyes. "What's repulsive to me is what that man did to you, and what he would have done if Seska hadn't stopped him."

A sob caught in my throat.

"Listen to me, Talia. I _love_ you. I love that you fight for what you believe is right, and I love that you never do anything halfway. It's easy for the Federation to judge others when all they've ever known is peace on Earth, but nobody can stay innocent when they're fighting for their life."

"But the thing is, those Cardassians were no different than me. They were fighting for what they thought was right, just like I was. How can I honestly justify doing to them the same things that made them my enemy?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Maybe you can't. But, what I do know is that you didn't do anything that any other person wouldn't have done in your place. You're no worse than the rest of us. In fact," he smiled and stroked my cheek, "in my opinion, you're the very best of us."

"Why?" I asked, my voice breaking as tears fell from my eyes. "Why are you so good? How can anyone be so kind and wonderful as you?"

Harry shook his head. “Don't you know that not a day goes by when I don't think the exact same thing about you?"

* * *

For the first week of Seska's neurological treatments, I left her alone, simply letting her rest while I kept on eye on Kes' reports. Once Kes informed me that Seska had finally spoken to her, I decided it was time to stop by. As I stepped into the surgical bay, I nodded at the security officer who was at the console. He activated a privacy force field, giving us a solid wall instead of a transparent one.

"Hello, Seska," I said, taking a seat in the chair facing the head of her bed.

She sat up and narrowed her eyes at me, simply staring for several seconds before speaking "How much do you know?"

"I know your real name is Iliana Ghemor. Your father is Legate Tekeny Ghemor. You are a deep cover agent of the Obsidian Order. You've had extensive procedures done to make you a Bajoran— cosmetic surgery, genetic resequencing, memory alterations. I know that your memories as Iliana resurfaced unexpectedly when we were brought to this quadrant by the Caretaker, and that you now have the memories of two different identities with no way to get the false ones purged. I know that most of Cardassia believes you went missing and were likely killed during your time undercover on Bajor. But, here you are, with a different face, planted in the cell of the second most important member of the Maquis."

"Ha! Yes, you must be dying to know why I joined his cell and not the General's. Well, _Eelo'chali_ , I can only guess, but I wouldn't tell you even if I could."

"I didn't expect you would. But, that's not why I'm here."

"No, you just want me to tell you about my feelings, right? Well, I'm not going to kill myself, I'm not going to run off after the Nistrim, and I'm not going to talk about my son, either, so you might as well just leave."

I shook my head. "I'm not here to counsel you."

"Then why are you here?"

"Just checking up on you," I insisted calmly. "Making sure your treatments are going well."

"Somehow I doubt you're very concerned about my well-being," she replied skeptically. "I am the enemy, after all."

"Are you really, though? Even out here? I'd think the best way for you to serve Cardassia is to help us get back to the Alpha Quadrant. Our interests should be aligned, yet you created enmity between yourself and this crew. Do you serve Cardassia, or yourself?"

Her nostrils flared. "I serve Cardassia," she said with conviction.

"By allying with the Kazon-Nistrim? Attacking a Federation vessel? Impregnating yourself with the DNA of a Maquis rebel?"

"You couldn't possibly understand, Terran," she sneered.

I leaned forward. "Try me."

"No, I don't think so. Either way, I'll be sitting in the brig for the next seventy years, no thanks to your fool of a captain. You're wasting your time with me, _Eelo'chali_. Why spend any more of it with someone you hate?"

"You're right. I did hate you. But ever since I found out that you weren't lying to us all that time, that you genuinely didn't remember who you were until the Caretaker scanned us, I found it much harder to hate you. Not impossible, but harder."

She laughed. "You know, I've always liked your honesty. You must have gotten that from your father."

"Why do you say that?"

"No reason," she purred, studying me closely. "Well, if you're not going to leave, then you might as well tell me something interesting. Who's been fucking who lately?"

I snorted.

"Hm, so not you and Chakotay. Good to know. What about Tom and Megan?"

I watched her carefully. "No. She and Jenny both have steady partners now."

"Ah," she said, looking back at me with equal intensity. "Well, you'd better keep your eye on them. They're tricky, those Delaney sisters. I always thought that they had… _other_ interests."

"Like you?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Or you. But who could blame them? You and I are very interesting people."

"I'm not as interesting as you think," I said carefully.

"I can think of a few people who would disagree. Like Megan and Jenny. Or Tuvok and Janeway." She paused briefly and quirked her mouth. "You certainly managed to steal Chakotay's attention, but I don't think he ever could put his finger on why."

I kept my face neutral. "Do you find me interesting, Iliana?"

"Only as interesting as you make yourself, _Eelo'chali_."

"I see. But, Chakotay was always of interest to you."

She smiled devilishly. "I've been interested in him in more ways than one. That's never been a secret."

"What was it that reinvigorated your interest in him last year?"

Seska shrugged. "Didn't the doctor tell you? I went crazy."

"I thought agents got special training to prevent that."

"Agent? Don't be ridiculous. No, I'm just a plain, simple engineer."

I raised my eyebrows slightly. "Ah, I see. And why would a plain, simple engineer take such an interest in a former-Maquis-turned-Starfleet-commander?"

"I thought you said you weren't here to ask questions.”

I smiled. "Now why would I be questioning just a plain, simple engineer? That would seem to be a pointless exercise, don't you think?"

"Yes, it would be," she agreed, pulling her legs back up onto the biobed and turning to lay down with her back towards me.

Slowly, I stood, stretched my back, and tapped my combadge. "Eelo to sickbay, you may release the force field." Seconds later, the force field dropped, and I made my way straight to the sickbay doors.

In the corridor, I paused in front of Tuvok, Lon, and Kes, who all stood outside, waiting for me. I raised my eyebrows at them. "Well?"

They glanced at each other, then back at me. Tuvok was the only one to speak. "We must meet with Captain Janeway immediately.”

* * *

"Was the bridging successful?" Janeway asked Tuvok as the five of us sat down in the briefing room. Unknown to Seska, the force field had been a one-way, allowing us to be seen and heard from the other side. Once the field was activated, Lon and Kes took their positions outside of it where Lon could see Seska's eyes, and Tuvok initiated a Vulcan ‘bridging of the minds’ between them, allowing them to share each other's psionic abilities.

"It was very successful, Captain," Tuvok replied.

Kes nodded. "Yes, I could see Seska as Lon saw her, and I was able to enhance his empathetic abilities to better probe her mind."

Janeway looked at Lon. "What did you find out, Mister Suder?"

He returned her gaze with intensity, still feeling the effects of the meld. "She is both Iliana Ghemor and Seska Paqu. She remembers both lives. She has coped with the conflicting memories, and recognizes Seska's memories as the false ones, so in that way she embraces Iliana and rejects Seska. Yet, she is conflicted by the opposing personalities of them both, and struggles to separate the two."

"Yes," Kes agreed. "I felt that, too. There's a lot of conflict between the personalities, and they're very hard to control. I felt a great deal of frustration from Iliana about this, like she felt she should be able to control herself and she is upset that she can't."

"Seska is very impulsive and hedonistic," Lon observed. "Iliana can't control her."

Janeway leaned forward slightly. "Did she give any reason for why she defected to the Kazon-Nistrim, or why she would want to have Chakotay's child?"

"I asked her about that, Captain," I interjected. "She insisted that I couldn't possibly understand, but that she, of course, served Cardassia."

"When she told you that you wouldn't understand," Lon said, "I saw her own confusion. She projected it onto you, of course, but she doesn't herself understand why she did those things."

"I think she's in love with Commander Chakotay," Kes surmised. "Although, it didn't feel like love in a healthy sense. It's more one-sided, like—"

"Limerence," Lon finished.

"Yes," she agreed. "It's an obsession, like she needs to maintain a hold on him. But even that seems conflicted. I sense that Iliana is very displeased with Seska's desire for him, but she doesn't know how to control that, either."

I pushed forward. "There was a point in our talk when she was probing me for information about the crew. She disguised it as simple gossip about her old friends' sex lives, but it was clear to me that the meat of our conversation was underneath the actual words we were using."

"What do you mean?" Janeway asked.

"She really fixated on Megan and Jenny Delaney. She suspected there was more to them than simply being Starfleet officers, but that wasn't the weird part. She admitted that they had been suspicious of her, but she heavily implied that they were even more interested in me."

Janeway’s eyebrows jumped. "You?"

Lon nodded coolly. "Very perceptive, Commander. I saw that, too."

"What else did you see, Mister Suder?" Tuvok prodded, unconsciously rubbing his hands together the way Lon often did.

"Suspicion of something sinister behind the Delaneys' interest. She told Eelo to watch them for deceit. I couldn't see any deeper than that, but it was the same look I saw when she had suggested that Talia had inherited her honesty from her father. I think perhaps it has something to do with General Eelo."

"Yes, I felt that very strongly," Kes said, leaning over the table. "Iliana is suspicious that there is more to Talia's mother than a Bajoran-Maquis rebel. Like there's something bigger behind her actions that makes her more of a threat to Cardassia."

In my periphery, I saw the captain and Tuvok exchange glances. I frowned at Kes. "What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure. I couldn't tell."

"Agent Ghemor has a resistant mind,” Tuvok interjected. “Seska, however, does not. Still, that did cause limitations in what Kes and Mister Suder were able to observe."

Kes continued. "I can tell you that Iliana thinks she may have been sent to Chakotay's cell in order to determine whether she should be suspicious of you, too."

"Is she?" I asked.

"No," Lon answered. "She looked at you as though you were ignorant in this. She seemed to think that you may know something important, but that perhaps you overlook it because you don't want to believe your mother would be hiding something from you. If anything, she wants you to be more suspicious, so you can find the truth."

Kes nodded. "I sensed that if you did investigate her claims further, then your interests might be more in line with hers, and she would be more willing to talk."

Janeway stroked her chin. "Whose side is she on here? Can she be trusted at all?"

Lon shifted his intense gaze to her. "Seska may be angry, but Iliana still believes in Cardassia above all else. You can trust in that."

* * *

After our meeting, I went straight to my quarters. "Computer, how long until Lieutenant Kim goes off duty?"

"Fifty-two minutes," the computer replied.

 _That's not much time,_ I thought. But, I'd never be able to focus on dinner conversation if I didn't at least look. Unzipping my jacket partway, I reached inside and pulled out my knife as I walked into my bedroom. Opening my closet, I pushed aside my clothes, knelt to the floor, and jammed my knife into the seam between two wall panels. I worked the blade carefully around the panel until it popped loose and I could pull it away. Behind it was a metallic data storage bank, dented and worn from use.

Sheathing my knife, I took the data bank to my computer and pulled up the _Valjean's_ database, which I had downloaded onto it before I flew the old raider into a Kazon vessel. I typed in my mother's name and began skimming through her Maquis record, looking for any discrepancies or any important missions that I hadn't already known about— anything that might support Seska's suspicions about her.

Not finding anything of interest, I switched over to the other database I had— copies of the files I had stolen and translated for Maquis intelligence. I set the search parameters to include my mother's name as written in Standard, Bajoran, and Kardasi, and then began sifting through the files.

From what I could tell, the Cardassian Central Government had little suspicion that she was more than a Maquis rebel. Their bio was mostly what Starfleet and the Maquis already had, though they did note that she was initially a rogue volunteer whose main concern was the welfare of displaced Bajorans, not the Federation colonies; neither Starfleet nor the Maquis ever seemed to want to admit that fact. I supposed it could be seen as suspicious that as soon as the armistice with Bajor was signed, she resigned from a life-long career in Starfleet and left her family behind to fight with what remained of the Bajoran Resistance. But, they didn't know her like I did, so of course it made less sense to them.

Yet, hadn't Lon said that Seska believed me to be overlooking what I knew because I didn't want to believe that my mother was keeping secrets from me? Did the Obsidian Order perhaps suspect her of being involved with some extremist, anti-Cardassian faction of the Bajoran Provisional Government? That wouldn't be an entirely illogical leap to make, though I strongly doubted its probability.

And what about the Delaney sisters? They were Starfleet science officers with no connections whatsoever to Bajor or the Maquis. What did they have to do with this? Why would they want to watch me? I supposed they could be Starfleet Intelligence agents assigned to _Voyager_ to find out any connections my mother and I may have had with extremist Bajoran politics, but I didn't see how that was so sinister, especially now that we were so far removed from those conflicts.

Perhaps the most important question of all was this: Could I really trust a mentally unstable cloak-and-dagger agent who was devoted to the Cardassian Central Command? The obvious answer should have been a resounding _no_ , but something inside of me insisted there was more going on here than I had been allowed to believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juq: Go  
> loxKardasia: For Cardassia


	21. Turn of the Q

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager receives another visit from Q, but, this time, he has come to uncover why Voyager is in the Delta Quadrant in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: TOS 1x08 "Balance of Terror"

Counselor’s Log: Stardate 50229.5

Iliana’s condition continues to stabilize. Her personality has changed so much since completing psychiatric treatment that I almost forget she was ever the Seska I knew before. It certainly makes working with her easier for me. Political affiliation aside, I get along with Iliana much better than I ever did with Seska. And, although nothing about this situation is easy for her to process, she wants to recover more than anything.

* * *

It was a special day on _Voyager_. Neelix and Kes were getting married.

The crew gathered on the holodeck, circled in the clearing of a forest that had stood behind Neelix’s childhood home. In the center of the clearing, atop a small wooden table, stood Neelix's relic of the Guiding Tree. Neelix and Kes stood across the table from each other. A third side of the table was reserved for immediate family— Tuvok, Schmullis, and Sam and Naomi Wildman held that honor. Across from them, I stood with Captain Janeway in place of a priestess.

As _Voyager’s_ captain, Janeway was the officiant favored by Federation law. But part of the priestess’s role was to recite from Talaxian sacred texts, and Janeway was self-admittedly terrible at speaking alien languages. 

Hence my assistance.

After I opened the ceremony, making the addresses first in Talaxian and second in Standard, Neelix and Kes reached around the Guiding Tree to take hold of each other. Captain Janeway bound their hands together with a green ribbon as I read the traditional Talaxian prayer from a PADD.

 _May their love be as pure as Talax in the day  
_ _May their joy be as bright as Rinax in the night  
_ _May their hunger be filled at the breast of our mother Talaxia  
_ _May their family be a rich spice among the people_

 _May their roots be as deep as the Guiding Tree  
_ _May their bond be as strong as its boughs  
_ _May their children be as plentiful as the Great Forest  
_ _May they grow tall together, and bear flavorful fruit_

 _May their lives be bound together for eternity  
_ _May they grow stronger together as one  
_ _May their souls be joined to the Guiding Tree  
_ _May they always find each other with their love_

Finishing the knot and giving the couple each one end of the ribbon, Captain Janeway began her own speech. "Since the days of the first wooden vessels, all shipmasters have had one happy privilege— that of uniting two people in the bonds of matrimony. We are gathered here today with Neelix and Kes, not as Starfleet officers, but as friends and family, in accordance with our laws and our many beliefs, so that we may celebrate the marriage of two of _Voyager's_ finest."

Once the vows were recited, Janeway beamed with pride as she pronounced Kes and Neelix husband and wife. Together, they slipped their hands free and tightened the knot around the base of the Guiding Tree.

"Omara el'ilzay!" I said. "Wen shexa teliar ot Imara Telix sa Talaxia." Then, I translated. "Good news, my children! A new family grows in the Great Forest of Talaxia."

I felt, in that moment, as if our collective shouts of joy could have been heard all the way to the Alpha Quadrant.

* * *

I was reviewing departmental reports at my desk a few days later when Q appeared with a flash. "The bridge is four decks up,” I reminded him.

He walked towards me. "Actually, I'm here to see you. I hear you've been doing some covert research on your dear mother lately."

That got my attention. Slapping the PADD down, I looked up at him and crossed my arms. "What do you want?"

"I need to know anything you know or suspect about her."

"That could take a while."

He rolled his eyes. "Not about her _whole_ life. She has recently caused a major change in the timeline, and I need to know who she worked with to do it."

I shrugged. "How should I know? I haven't seen her in two years."

"She made the change before you followed Chuckles and the Amazonian into the wilds of the Delta Quadrant."

"I see," I said. "Well, as far as I can tell, Marnah was only working for the Valo-Bajoran Resistance— and then, of course, the Maquis. If she was working with time travelers, I don't know anything about it."

"Well, that's disappointing.” Q stroked his chin. "No matter. I'll just find another source." When he snapped his fingers, I couldn't believe what I saw— Marnah, standing right in front of me.

" _Marnah_?" I breathed, rounding my desk.

Her smile could have lit up a black hole. " _Ja'ital_!" Brushing past our non-corporeal acquaintance, she closed the space between us and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"Oh, Fayeni, darling, I'm hurt," Q whined. "It's like you don't even realize I'm here."

She didn’t miss a beat. "You will live, _Soi'rel'tah_.”

We held each other until Q lost his patience.

"Really, now," he griped. "For such limited beings with such short lives, you sure waste a lot of it on trivial things."

Marnah stepped back and glared at Q. "What do you want?"

"I want to know what you're up to. There's been an unauthorized change in the timeline because of you, and I want to know why."

She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I've been kind of busy with more immediate issues."

"Don't play coy with me, General. I know you didn't plan this all by yourself. Surely, you must have an excellent reason for stranding your own daughter in the Delta Quadrant."

My eyes widened. " _What_? What the hell is he talking about?"

"Yes, Q," Marnah echoed, crossing her arms. "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Now, tell me, who are you working with?"

"Marnah," I murmured, lowering my voice and speaking only in Bajoran, as she and I tended to do. "What is the Ancient One saying?"

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. " _Ja'ital_. Please, believe me. I do not know."

* * *

In a flash, the three of us were standing in Captain Janeway's ready room.

Janeway was sitting on her couch, hunched over a stack of PADDs and absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck. Her head snapped up at the sound of our arrival, wide eyes quickly narrowing on Q. "What the hell is going on?"

Q grinned. "Hello, Kathy. Oh, I hope you don't mind us dropping by. I just wanted you to meet a dear old friend of mine, the legendary General Eelo Fayeni. Of course, when I knew her, she was Commander Eelo of the Federation Starship _Hepburn_. But, I don't have to tell you that, now, do I, Captain?"

With a sigh, Janeway set down her PADD, stood, and extended a friendly hand to Marnah. "Pleasure to meet you, General. I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway. Welcome aboard the USS _Voyager_."

Marnah returned the captain’s gesture, then bowed her head. "Thank you, Captain. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

"Yes," Janeway agreed, releasing Marnah's hand and turning to Q. "What exactly are the circumstances that brought General Eelo to the Delta Quadrant?"

"Ah, I was hoping you'd ask. You see, when you and I last met, I was quite surprised to find a Federation vessel out here. As I said then, Terrans aren't supposed to be in this quadrant for another hundred years, so you can imagine my surprise when I found out that you were the ones responsible for breaking Q out of his confinement. It's not often that a Q finds himself surprised, you know. Once I returned to the continuum, I found that the timeline had been radically altered."

"Altered?"

"Yes. Someone— not in the continuum— went back and changed history right under our proverbial noses."

"And what exactly does all of this have to do with the General?"

"Why, she's the one who did it. She's the reason you're out here. She set the change into motion by sabotaging her own ship, trapping it for two weeks behind enemy lines and causing her to miss her own appointment with destiny. You see, in the original timeline, Fayeni was the one who was dragged seventy thousand light-years from home. Of course she, being the wonderfully despicable person she is, not only left her sick crewman with the Ocampa to die, but then she beamed over to the array and threatened to fly her ship into it if the Nacene didn't send her back home. Oh, it was inspired! Of course then, she went all soft and sent warnings to everyone, including Starfleet, about the encounter, and no Federation vessels ended up here. But, one little change, and here you all are."

Janeway gaped at Marnah. "Is that true?"

She shook her head. "Like I told Q already, I don't know anything about this other timeline."

"Come now, Fayeni, there's no use hiding it anymore. The secret's out. The continuum knows what you've done, trading your daughter for yourself. We also know that this wasn't the work of some imbecile with a tachyon field generator, either. This was planned and thought out by someone who has the ability to observe the entire space-time continuum from the outside. There are so few of us like that in the galaxy. So, just tell me, who are you working for?"

She stood toe-to-toe with Q. "How _dare_ you accuse me of such selfishness and disloyalty to my family."

"Disloyalty? Oh, my dear, no. You misunderstand. I know all about your loyalties. I know better than anyone. We did work together, you and I, or have you forgotten?"

"Then why have you brought me here?"

"Well, I thought you might be interested to know that Captain Amazon here sent her Vulcan pet to spy on your little _tah'l ral_ because they were worried you'd dragged her into your mission, too. Of course, it didn't take long to realize she's more like dear Alexander than she is like you— another bleeding heart altruist— and so they decided they'd use her to expose you instead. That was never going to end well for you, so you exiled them here."

I glanced at Janeway, looking for any kind of reaction to Q's words, but she kept her jaw set and her expression neutral as she observed the interaction between Marnah and Q. I was utterly confused, and I couldn't help but feel like I wasn't supposed to be hearing any of the things Q was saying.

Marnah raised an eyebrow, as though amused by his insane story, and crossed her arms. "And how do you imagine I did that, _Soi'rel'tah_ _?"_

"Well, certainly not alone. You're smart, my dear, but you're not _that_ smart. Which is why I need you to tell me the truth. Or, perhaps, I should just take these good people home and they can tell Starfleet all about your loyalties?"

Janeway and I both looked at Marnah, who snorted and rolled her eyes. "You're crazy, Q. I don't know what the hell you're talking about. So, why don't you be a decent creature for once and bring my daughter and this crew home where they belong. Unless it's actually you who has the ulterior motive?"

Q narrowed his eyes.

Just then, I felt a strange surge of energy in my mind, and something told me that they were both right. I frowned as I tried to understand this hunch, but my thoughts seemed to draw Q's suspicious glare from my mother to me. His eyes went wide.

"Q?" Janeway asked, her voice edged with concern. What could possibly scare a Q?

He ignored the captain's unspoken query, and hardened his expression as he turned it again to Marnah. "I know who you're working with, General, and I believe you are being honest in saying that you know nothing."

Janeway planted her hands on her hips. "Q, I want you to tell me what the hell is going on right now."

"Everything here is not what it seems, Captain," he said carefully. "I cannot tell you more than that, but don't worry. I'm sure things will reveal themselves in time." Q turned his attention to me. "I'll be watching you, Little Eelo."

Then, with no more than a wave of his hand, both he and my mother were gone.

"Wait!" I cried, reaching my hand out towards my mother as if I could stop Q from taking her away, but I was too late. Slowly, my hand fell to my side, and I simply stared at the spot where she had stood.

Without a word, Janeway rounded her coffee table and wrapped me up in a tight hug.

* * *

The next morning, I requested a meeting with Captain Janeway, and I made my way to deck one with my old data storage bank. Working separately wasn't going to get anyone anywhere. I didn't care if I got demoted for keeping this from her, or if she and Tuvok continued to keep me in the dark about my mother. Our visit from Q had changed everything.

When I walked into the captain's ready room, I could barely breathe. She watched calmly as I approached her desk and set the data storage bank in front of her, simply asking, "What's this?"

"Captain," I began, taking a deep breath, "I have a confession to make. Before I rammed the _Valjean_ into that Kazon ship, I downloaded the database onto my personal data storage bank and concealed it on myself. The bank also contains copies of Cardassian files I acquired and translated for the Maquis during my time with them. I take full responsibility for this; Chakotay knew nothing about it. I am deeply sorry for withholding this from you, and I will accept whatever discipline you see fit to impose on me for my actions, but I cannot in good conscience hold onto it anymore."

Janeway sighed heavily, studying my face for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she spoke, inviting me to sit down before giving her response. "I am very disappointed in your mistrust, Commander. However, I can't say that I'm surprised. What does surprise me is that you brought it at all when you knew you would be going into Starfleet custody. Did you not think it better for your intelligence to be destroyed rather than to fall into the hands of Starfleet?"

And there it was— the question I dreaded the most, the answer that would decide whether my loyalties were with my mother or my captain. I'd seen it coming the first day I spoke with Iliana; I'd run from it in the weeks since. But, something inexplicable had changed in me yesterday during that conversation with Q. It was time to grow up and be my own woman.

So, I chose _Voyager_.

"It was my mother's order, Captain. She gave it to me on the transport from Bajor; told me to keep everything and tell no one. She said I was to destroy it if I was captured by the Cardassians, but that if the Federation caught me, I was to hide it on myself until the right person came for it." Seeing her next question in the creases of her brow, I quickly added, "She didn't tell me who the 'right person' was, just that it was better for the Federation to have it than for it to be lost entirely if things went badly for us."

Janeway pursed her lips, wordlessly examining my face again for several beats before asking her next question. "Why now, Commander?"

"After what I went through with Starfleet, I thought the only person I could trust was my mother. Now, I'm not so sure. But, I do know that I—" I forced myself to meet her eyes. "I trust you, Captain."

Janeway couldn't help but smile at those words.

"There's something bigger going on here," I continued, "and I'm honestly not sure that I even want to know what it is. I once told you how you're like my mother, but now I think... you're not like anyone else, not even the people at Starfleet Command. You'll do the right thing, even if I hate it, even if I don't want to see it, because your instincts are good. So, I will follow you, Captain, all the way."

Blinking back the moisture in her eyes, she gave me an approving nod. "Well, that certainly answers our question. It's true, what Q said, that Tuvok and I were more interested in you than Chakotay. By the time we integrated our two crews, we knew you weren't knowingly engaging in any covert activity. But, we did wonder if something like this," she gestured towards the data bank, "would come to light eventually. After your conversation with Ms. Ghemor, we knew it was only a matter of time."

Janeway sat back in her chair, her hands still remaining folded on top of her desk. "I will not be taking any disciplinary action at this time, though I will have to put your actions on report."

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Thank you, Captain."

"Of course, that report will have to be classified, due to the nature of this situation. I also expect you to keep all information regarding this data bank and the events of yesterday to yourself."

"Aye, Captain."

"If there's nothing else?"

I shook my head.

"Then you're dismissed."

Quietly, I stood and began walking towards the door.

"Talia?"

I turned back.

"Off the record... thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes from the Talaxian wedding prayer:  
> Talax: ancient name for the sun  
> Rinax: the moon  
> Talaxia: ancient name for the planet Talax


	22. That Old Ultraviolence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyager discovers a seemingly-abandoned system of mines full of a vital resource. Meanwhile, B'Elanna begins behaving very strangely after being assaluted by a young Vulcan engineer in the throes of his first pon farr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 3x16 Blood Fever
> 
> CW: Sexual assault (mentioned but not shown), canon-compliant awkwardness related to pon farr and interspecies mating rituals

Holodeck one looked lively and bright. Programmed to mimic the setup of _Voyager’s_ mess hall, I had dressed it up even further in preparation for a celebration of the Bajoran Gratitude Festival. Holding celebrations on the holodeck meant that Dr. Schmullis could be included, although Harry and B’Elanna had ideas for making _Voyager_ morehologram-friendly in the future.

I stepped into the center of the room to examine my work, the smell of dried bateret leaves bringing spice to the air. It seemed so very quiet.

”Celes?”

Crewmen Gerron and Tabor— the two other Bajorans from Chakotay’s Maquis cell— were in the real mess hall, teaching Neelix how to make Bajoran food. Crewman Celes— a Starfleet enlistee who had been assigned to _Voyager_ for her first-ever mission— was supposed to be helping me set up the holodeck.

It seemed that she had left. How had I not noticed?

Just then, I heard the doors open and looked over to see Harry walk in. Like me, he was dressed in semi-casual civilian clothes. "Hey,” I said. “I thought you were busy helping Tom with something."

“We finished.” He slid his arms around my waist and kissed me. “Are you ready for tonight?"

I nodded. "Everything is set. It's gonna be a good holiday."

“Good,” he mumbled before his lips descended on mine again.

When he finally broke the kiss, I smiled. “What was that about?”

”Because I love you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sure you’re not just trying to fulfill some secret fantasy about mess hall sex?”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t be opposed, but no. Actually, I came to give you something.” Releasing his hold on me, he slipped a hand inside the sport jacket he wore and pulled out a small, plain box with a ribbon tied around it. " _Peldar Joi, ja'Talia_.”

Accepting the box, I said, "That was much better, Harry, but your accent still needs work. And, we don't give gifts for _Pai'mara_."

He shrugged. "I know. Just open it."

I did as he asked, and froze in shock at what was inside. It was a ring. " _Un'Bentel_.”

“I love you,” he said again. “You’re brilliant, caring, and brave. You look out for the people you love, and fight for what you believe in. You teach me so much about humanity, and also about myself. I want you by my side for the rest of this journey home, and every day after. I wanna face every adventure with you, start a family with you, and grow old with you.”

It struck me, just then, how crazy the whole thing was. I hadn’t much expected myself to do something like fall in love or get married. I’d never been that sort of a person until Harry came along— and it was happening so fast. Yet, I had no doubt that it was exactly what I wanted.

”Will you marry me?” he asked.

I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

Suddenly, his lips were on mine again. I wrapped a hand around the back of his head, never wanting to let go, but he broke the kiss. “Before we get, uh, carried away—“

Reaching for the box in my other hand, he plucked the ring from its pillow. Then, he took my hand from behind his head and held it in between us as he slid the ring onto the proper finger. “I love you so much.”

I squeezed his fingers. ”I love you, too.”

”Now, about that mess hall fantasy—“

I laughed. “Celes was supposed to be helping me. I don’t know where she is.”

Harry smiled. “I sent her away.”

“You sent her away?”

”She invited Lyndsay to come with her to the festival tonight.”

My eyebrows jumped. “Like, on a date?”

”Something like that. Anyway, she’s even more nervous now than usual, so I told her to take off early. She won’t be back.”

”Ah, well, in that case—“ I grabbed his shirt collar and pulled his mouth to mine.

* * *

Chief Science Officer’s Log: Stardate 50537.2

The equipment we got from our trade with the Tak Tak works even better than we thought it would. With the improved holographic technology and Iliana's innovative thinking, Harry and B'Elanna have successfully gotten holo-emitters up and running in key locations all over the ship.

A couple of days ago, we reached an ominous-looking area of space that Neelix called the Nekrit Expanse. The gasses and radiation in the area interfere with our sensors, and Neelix has never gone past its borders, so we're all a bit on-edge until we get back into open space. We did manage to find a planet with some gallicite under its surface, which will allow us to refit our warp coils… if we can get enough of it.

* * *

As we approached the planet, I began taking some preliminary geological scans from the science station on the bridge. "According to my readings, we're looking at almost a kiloton of gallicite."

B'Elanna double checked my readings from the engineering console. "Confirmed," she said. "We'll have enough to completely refit the warp coils."

"Is there anyone in the area who might consider this their property?" Chakotay asked.

"There are indications that a colony once existed on the planet's surface," Tuvok replied. "However, it appears to be long abandoned."

Captain Janeway slapped her armrests with excitement. "All right, let's stake a claim. I'll leave this in your hands, Talia. You and B'Elanna can use whatever resources or personnel you need. You might want to talk to Mister Neelix. I believe he spent some time working in a mining colony."

"Aye, Captain," I replied with a nod. "B'Elanna, I'm patching these sensor readings through to the upper level of engineering. I'll meet you there in a bit, but first I want to talk with the guys in geology."

"Acknowledged," she said before heading for the turbolift.

I stood to join her, tapping my combadge as I walked. "Eelo to Neelix. Are you available now to meet me in the geology lab?"

"Yes," he replied, "I'll be there right away."

* * *

"Did you get the coordinates I sent from the lab?" I asked as I approached B'Elanna and Vorik on the upper level of engineering.

"Yes, we were just looking at the site," B'Elanna replied. "Those tunnels were artificially constructed."

I nodded. "Someone else was mining the gallicite in there for two or three hundred years, but they abandoned the whole star system about fifty years ago."

"That should make it easier to access the deposits," Vorik said.

"It will," I confirmed. "But the geological analysis revealed a lot of seismic activity in those tunnels. Several of them have already collapsed. The guys are mapping out a route for us in the lab right now. Petty Officer Collins will be our underground geologist, Neelix will be our mining expert, and Dr. Mbara will track us from the bridge."

"We should bring Tom Paris on the away team," B'Elanna suggested. "He's had quite a lot of rock climbing experience, and it’d be good to have a medic on hand in case we run into trouble.”

I nodded. "Good thinking."

"Commander,” Vorik interjected, “I have spent several summers exploring the Osana caverns, which involved some quite treacherous climbing."

"As long as B'Elanna doesn't need you to stay here, Ensign, we can definitely use another pair of experienced hands."

B'Elanna shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Great," I said with a nod. "Sunrise is at 0437 tomorrow our time, so let's meet in transporter room one at 0500. Dismissed."

* * *

I had barely started reviewing the route that Neelix and my geologists had mapped out when Dr. Schmullis called me into sickbay. Evidently, in a strange turn of events, Vorik assaulted B'Elanna a few minutes after I left engineering. She hit him pretty hard in the jaw, but as she had acted in self-defense and was quite calm by the time I arrived, her incident assessment went quickly and without much concern. I scheduled her a follow-up appointment with me for the day after our mission, and dismissed her to her quarters.

Vorik, however, appeared to be deeply uncomfortable.

After Kes completed a cortical scan on him, she, Schmullis, and I reviewed the results. Schmullis and I exchanged knowing glances; Vorik had entered his first pon farr. Dr. Schmullis pressed him for information on the Vulcan mating process, but Vorik insisted it was nobody's business.

"You have a severe imbalance in your brain chemistry," Schmullis said. "If it gets much worse, it could become life threatening. Now, I need to know how Vulcans deal with this condition!"

"They go home and take their mate," I interjected, hoping to spare Vorik the humiliation of explaining himself to an outsider. "And because marriages are prearranged, there is no precedent for his current situation."

"I assume that explains your behavior toward Chief Torres," Schmullis mused, his lips taught with displeasure.

"I have always had great respect for B'Elanna," Vorik insisted. "I hope she isn't too upset with me."

"You propositioned her,” I snapped, “and then you physically assaulted her, with no consideration for her own views on the matter. I have a great deal of sympathy for Vulcan psychology, more so than most, but no one who truly respects another person will force themselves onto that person, not ever— not even under the influence of the pon farr. Strictly speaking, I could have you thrown in the brig for what you did."

He hung his head low, speechless.

"In any case," Schmullis continued, "we're going to have to try to find another way to treat your condition. Let's start with a microcellular scan."

"No!" Vorik shouted. "I don't want medical treatment. I will resolve this myself."

"How do you intend to do that?"

"There are certain meditative techniques. I will be fine if simply left alone. Please, allow me to return to my quarters. Confine me there, if you wish, but allow me to resolve my situation _privately_."

Schmullis looked at me, and I nodded. He pulled out a cortical monitor and turned back to Vorik. "Until I have a better idea of how to treat your condition, I'll release you to your quarters. You'll be under confinement and wearing a cortical monitor at all times."

Vorik thanked the doctor and left.

Schmullis sighed. "Well, you seem to know more about the pon farr than any non-Vulcan on board. Would you care to share some of your insight?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Did you bother to look into any of the social science databases?"

"I don't see why I would," he said defensively. "It's a biological drive."

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "You doctors can be so elitist sometimes. You'd learn a lot more about how to help people if you would deign to listen to some of us mere mortals in the soft sciences from time to time."

He sighed and crossed his arms. "Alright, then. I'm listening."

At his reluctant invitation, I offered a bio-psycho-social perspective on Vulcan marriage practices— starting from the childhood betrothal arranged by parents, to the first mind meld that brought the children’s psycho-sexual development into sync, and finally the irresistible urge to return to Vulcan once both individuals were ready to take up their mate and begin a family.

"Contrary to what many at Starfleet Medical insist,” I said, “the pon farr is primarily a psychological phenomenon created by the repression of their emotions. Though the drive to reproduce is biological, their intense emotional discipline frames and amplifies the effects of the condition. Many social scientists believe that the neurochemical imbalance was an unintentional, and initially epigenetic, consequence of ancient Vulcans attempting to repress their sexual drives during the Great Awakening. Over time, Vulcans evolved with it until it became an integral part of their neurobiology."

Schmullis frowned. "But, if the problem was caused by self-repression, won't his attempts to repress himself sexually make the condition worse?"

"More likely, it will delay or cure it. Remember that the Vulcan brain is much better equipped to handle emotional repression than any other species we know of, especially given the trajectory their evolution has taken since the Great Awakening. Without a mate selected and ready to bond with right now, I think meditation may be the best option he has."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"We could attempt to innovate another option, but he will not want it. Vulcans would rather die than discuss the pon farr, particularly with non-Vulcans. And he has the right to refuse treatment."

Schmullis pursed his lips. "For such an intellectually enlightened race, Vulcans have a remarkably Victorian attitude about sex."

"That's a very Terran judgement, Doctor," I reminded him.

"Then here's a Vulcan one. I fail to see the logic in perpetuating ignorance about a basic biological function."

"It's not quite that simple. With most other species, I would tend to agree. But the pon farr isn't just about sex; it's about creating a pair bond that fuses the bodies, minds, and souls of two people so deeply that it drives them back together no matter how far they roam, and keeps their families stable over the course of a lifetime. Due to the touch-based nature of their telepathy, intercourse is something far beyond what non-Vulcans experience. This is the very foundation of their social order, the ultimate personal illogic that is necessary to maintain a greater social logic."

He sighed. "Maybe if we consulted with Lieutenant Commander Tuvok—"

"No!" I said forcefully, cutting him off. "You cannot discuss this with anyone, even omitting names. It is wildly inappropriate and offensive. I know you don't agree or understand it, but you must respect Vulcan culture."

"Even if it costs him his life?"

"It is still  _his_ life, Doctor. His culture, his belief, and his choice. You have no right to tell him what to do with it."

* * *

The next day, our team of five beamed to the surface of the planet and made our way into the abandoned mines. B'Elanna had a strange energy about her, but I dismissed it as anticipation for the mission. She always did get weirdly excited about things like refitting machinery.

About halfway through our final descent, some of the rocks shifted and gave way above Neelix, causing his nut to slip out of its anchor point; he fell about a half-meter before the backup anchor stopped his rope, knocking loose a few rocks onto B'Elanna's head. Most of the rocks bounced harmlessly off of her helmet, but one dropped on her shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise, in spite of her protective uniform. She yelped and cursed at Officer Collins, who had set Neelix's anchors.

Collins rolled his eyes. "Backup held, didn't it, Chief?" He dropped down to where Neelix was, locked off, and rechecked Neelix's harness and descender. When everything checked out, he jovially slapped Neelix on the back. "Alright there, mate?"

Neelix nodded confidently. "Yes, sir. Hardly even sore."

"Brilliant. Let's keep moving."

"Fucker," B'Elanna muttered before resuming her rapid descent.

Tom and I exchanged glances. "I'm gonna make sure she's okay," he said. I nodded and gave him a slight smile before he followed her down to the bottom.

By the time Collins, Neelix and I made it to the bottom, B'Elanna was gone. "We've got problems,” Tom murmured as I loosened my harness. “I haven't been able to contact her. She's either out of communications range or just not responding. I tried to stop her from leaving, Tal, but she got very hostile and— she bit me."

I let my harness slide to the ground. "She _bit_ you?"

He nodded. "And she seemed to be enjoying it— you know, in a Klingon kind of way? She's really not herself."

As I thought back over her behavior during the last couple of days, I had an epiphany. Vorik had grabbed her face, attempting to establish a telepathic connection with her in order to better communicate his proposition. Could she be feeling the effects of telepathic transference?

Tom shifted nervously. "Should we contact _Voyager_?"

"For her, no. I think I might know what's going on. I can't tell you any specifics, but if my hypothesis is correct, she may not be in control of her aggressive or sexual instincts. But, if you want to return to the ship, I completely understand.”

“No, I want to help find her.”

I put a hand on his arm. “Are you sure?”

His blue gaze was steady as he covered my hand with his own. “I’m sure, Tal. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Alright,” I said, giving his arm a squeeze before letting him go completely. Motioning for Neelix and Collins to join us, I stooped to dig through my pack for a medical tricorder. "Alright, gentlemen, we have a situation. B'Elanna has split from the team and gone off on her own. I have reason to believe that she may not be in control of her behavior. We're going to proceed with the mission, but our first priority is to find her and get her back to _Voyager_. Tom, I'd like you to follow behind me. When we catch up to her, I want you scan her for heightened serotonin levels."

He nodded, taking the medical tricorder I offered and stowing it in his belt.

I continued. "Collins, you’ll take the rear. I want you and Neelix to scan for the gallicite. Sound good?" They all agreed, so I secured the pack to my back and gave a curt nod. "Alright, let's go."


	23. The Violence Not Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the efforts to track down B’Elanna lead to the surprise appearance of people living in the caves, Talia and the crew are faced with the consequences wrought by interpersonal and social violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 3x16 Blood Fever

We found B'Elanna in a cavern a ways down. She had uncovered a still-blinking power system built into the rock, and explained her discovery as Tom covertly began scanning her with the medical tricorder.

"It's an active power system," she exclaimed. "It must've been built by the colonists."

Collins frowned as he scanned the system. "I don't understand how this can be."

B'Elanna slapped one of the conduits. "This is the source of the gallicite readings. These conduits are covered with gallicite plating. It's exactly what we need, and I found it."

"That isn't what I meant," Collins said, rechecking his tricorder readings.

I stepped closer to Collins so I could see his readings. "I hear you Andrew. This isn't abandoned technology." I looked up at my team, and Tom met my eyes with a subtle nod, confirming B'Elanna's neurochemical imbalance. "There's someone down here, probably in hiding. Which means we need to leave, now."

"What?" B'Elanna's voice echoed throughout the cavern. "No! What are you saying? We can't just leave! Look at how old this thing is! There's no one here, and we need this."

"Absolutely not. This belongs to someone else, and they clearly don't want to be found."

She growled, clenched her fists, then unclenched them. "Fine. What if we recalibrate our tricorders and scan again for lifesigns? If we find someone, we offer a trade. If not, maybe you should consider the possibility that I'm right."

"I don't think recalibrating our tricorders is going to work, B'Elanna. We need to go back to the ship."

B'Elanna backed away from me slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. Tom reached for her, but she dodged his grasp and bumped into a wall of rock behind her.

Then, that rock wall began to move— and not in any way I had seen rock move before.

B'Elanna jumped back as several men and women emerged from the shadows of the cavern around us, all dressed in camouflaging attire and armed with large energy weapons.

One of the men stepped past B'Elanna and stopped in front of me. "Who are you? What do you want?"

Swallowing my surprise, I introduced myself as calmly as I could. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Eelo Talia. I came from a starship called _Voyager_. We detected gallicite on this planet and came to mine it. We thought the mines were abandoned. Please accept our sincere apology for disturbing you. We will leave your territory immediately."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Why are you carrying weapons?"

"It's standard procedure for any mission into unfamiliar territory."

"And what is that?" he asked, pointing to my tricorder. "Some sort of scanning device?"

I nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"But it didn't detect any lifeforms here?"

"No, it didn't."

Some kind of alarm echoed through the cavern, and B'Elanna looked around nervously. "What's that?"

"It's a seismic alert," the man said. He gestured to a wall that led out of the cavern and into another tunnel. "That wall is unstable. Be careful."

B'Elanna looked to be on the verge of panic. Tom attempted to guide her away from the unstable wall, but she pulled away. As the bedrock began to quake and rocks shook loose from the wall, the man nearest B'Elanna moved to help Tom guide her away from danger.

Instead, she attacked them.

I lunged forward, but froze when two of the aliens blocked my path. I wanted to shout at them that I only intended to subdue my crewman, but their looks silenced me. They weren't being defensive, but merely keeping me out of harm's way. I looked to the mouth of the tunnel just as B'Elanna disarmed the alien. "Tom!" I shouted. "The wall!"

Tom wrapped his arms around B'Elanna and pushed her to the ground just inside the tunnel's entry.

When the shaking finally stopped, I saw that the tunnel had been completely blocked by fallen rock. I turned to the alien leader. "Please, help us get to our people. When we have them, we'll leave and never come back."

The man shook his head. "We cannot. It is too dangerous."

"He's right, Commander," Collins said. "We should wait until the aftershock passes."

The alien leader nodded to his aides, who began examining us with their scanners. "In the meantime, allow me to introduce myself. I am Ishan. We are the Sakari. I want to know about the vessel which brought you here. Your propulsion systems, weapons, sensors, artificial intelligence."

"I'm sure our captain would be glad to facilitate a peaceful exchange of information between our peoples. We trade with many species. However, I'm not the expert on _Voyager's_ technical specs."

The aide who was scanning Collins gestured for Ishan, who frowned at the readout. "You have an artificial implant in your knee. Explain."

"I had a nasty tumble on an expedition back home," he replied, "and I had to have the joint replaced."

Ishan's frown didn't fade. "Do you have any other artificial implants?"

"No."

He turned to the woman examining me. "Anything?"

"No," she said. "A purely biological humanoid."

He then looked to the man examining Neelix, who shook his head.

I cleared my throat. "Your people have made a great deal of effort to avoid detection by outsiders. We saw the ruins on the surface. May I ask what happened?"

Ishan looked from Collins to me, his frown deepening.

"We can show you how we detected the gallicite," I offered, "so you can disguise it better. We can also help you eliminate the last traces of the ruins on the surface, so no one else will be curious about them."

Aftershocks rumbled through the caves, shaking a few small rocks loose along the walls. In the silence between us, I caught the woman's eye. "Tell me about the people who did this to you."

"It happened a long time ago," Ishan said, "before I was born. My people never knew who the invaders were or why they attacked. It was all over in less than an hour. Some of the colonists were fortunate enough to escape into the mines. We've lived here ever since, where it's safe. If the invaders ever learned of our existence here, they might return."

"And why the fear of artificial implants?"

"There are stories," the woman explained. "Some of the survivors claimed they saw monsters who were part man and part machine."

I exchanged a weighted look with Collins. "The Borg."

Ishan stepped closer. "You know of these creatures?"

I nodded. "Yes. They have attacked my people, too."

"How did you survive?" the woman asked. "Is that why you live on a spaceship?"

"No, our ship was pulled across the galaxy against our will by a different entity, and we are trying to get home. But the Borg are weaker in that part of the galaxy— there are fewer of them. They only sent one ship to scout us, and we destroyed it."

"Your people must be powerful, indeed," the woman murmured.

"We gain strength by making peaceful alliances with other species and sharing our resources. We lost a lot of ships and people to that one Borg cube, and it almost succeeded in reaching my homeworld."

The woman looked at Ishan, her face full of amazement.

Ishan was still frowning. "Forgive me for saying this, but it appeared that you were having difficulty getting one of your people to cooperate."

"She's sick," Neelix insisted. "We didn't realize it until we got here, but she's not acting very much like herself right now."

"I think they're telling the truth, Ishan," the woman said. "I believe them."

"Thank you," I replied. "May I ask, were you only attacked by these people once?"

"That is correct," Ishan confirmed. "They have not returned, as far as we are aware. We would like to keep it that way. If your people can help us as you said, we would gladly accept it. There is more gallicite to mine in these caves. We will trade whatever you need to ensure our people stay hidden."

"I understand," I said. "Thank you for sharing your story with me. I know it wasn't easy, and I'm sorry for what happened to you. When we return to our ship, I'll speak with our captain, and I'm sure she'll be willing to help you out however we can."

* * *

It took a while to dig out the tunnel that Tom and B'Elanna had been trapped in. By the time we found them, B'Elanna's higher brain functions were beginning to shut down. We needed to resolve her neurochemical imbalance soon; otherwise, we could lose her.

Once we made it back to _Voyager_ , I pulled Tom into my office to ask him what happened.

He stared at the floor. "She wasn't herself. She— she kept trying to convince me to have sex with her, but I knew it wasn't her talking. It wasn't right. But—" He looked up, meeting my eyes. "I wanted to give in. I've wanted her for so long, but I didn't want it like this. And if I gave in, she'd never even look at me once she was better. Normally, I could live with that, but B'Elanna—" He choked on a sob that he refused to let out. "I think I might be in love with her, Tal. But, how can I claim to love her if I can't do this one thing to save her life?" He sighed and hung his head. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Nothing," I said. "Nothing is wrong with you."

He looked again at me, his skin flushing red. "Yes, there is! Stop trying to make me feel better and just say it. Would you have turned away an opportunity like that? It's just sex! I've fucked my way around half the Alpha and Beta quadrants before getting stuck out here. And then I fucked my way around _Voyager_. Why now, all of the sudden, is it such a big damn deal?"

"What do you think? Why the hesitation, Tom?"

Finally, a few tears broke through his resistance and escaped from his eyes. He mashed his fingers to his face to wipe them away. "I don't know." His voice shrunk, and his eyes fell to the floor. "I don't know."

I let the silence linger for a while, until it was clear he had finished talking. "I think you're right, Tom. I think you love her. And, maybe I'm wrong, but I think you know that sex means something different to her than it means to you. It's not something she does casually. I think you care more about her feelings surrounding sex than your own."

His head bobbed slowly as he absorbed my words, but he offered no reply.

"Do you agree with what I just said? Or is there something else?"

He sighed and looked up. "No, you're right. You always are."

"Well, I don't know—"

"Look, if the doc can't come up with something soon, tell him I'll do whatever I have to do, okay? I'd rather she hates me for the rest of our lives, than lose her over this."

* * *

While I was away with Tom, Schmullis confirmed that B'Elanna was, in fact, suffering from the pon farr. He attempted to stabilize B'Elanna's hormonal and neurological levels with medications, but nothing seemed to be working.

"Any ideas?" he asked upon my return to sickbay.

I racked my brain trying to think of anything that might help, but the only option I could think of was to ask something of Tom that he did not feel right doing— resolving the pon farr by agreeing to be her mate.

Kes eventually broke the silence. "If a mind meld with Vorik is what transferred this process to her brain, could telepathy also remove it from her?"

"Ensign Vorik is still struggling to control his own condition, Kes," Schmullis answered. "The meld didn't help him at all. If anything, it accelerated his condition."

"I realize that, Doctor," she replied, "but over the last few months, I've been able to retain and develop Lon's mental probing abilities myself. My work with Tuvok has also made me quite familiar with Vulcan telepathy and mental exercises. I think I can help B'Elanna regain some control, or maybe even teach her how to resolve it like Ensign Vorik is trying to do."

Schmullis hesitated, frowning.

"I can do this," Kes said. "Let me try, Doctor. B'Elanna deserves a chance to make the choice herself. Let me give her that chance."

When Schmullis relented with a nod, Kes stepped up to B'Elanna's bedside and attempted to establish a telepathic connection.

It took a few hours for any significant progress to be made, but Kes was able to stabilize B'Elanna. After the two women shared a lengthy meditation session, Dr. Schmullis suggested sending Kes on to Vorik next. I told him to wait and allow Vorik as much time as possible to resolve the pon farr himself, just as he had requested.

* * *

Captain Janeway readily agreed to help the Sakari, and they returned the gesture by giving us enough gallicite to refit _Voyager's_ warp coils. Once I was dismissed from sickbay, Chakotay, Tuvok and I led teams down to the surface to clear the ruins. I was working with my team to vaporize remnants of buildings when Chakotay shouted at me from some nearby brush.

I kept my phaser in hand as I made my way over to where he stood; he looked deeply concerned. He sent his team on to the next site, leaving us alone. Just then, Captain Janeway materialized beside us.

"Your call sounded urgent," she said to him.

Chakotay nodded. "I think there's something you should see, Captain. We found this as we were clearing away the ruins. Undoubtedly, one of the invaders who destroyed this colony." Moving tangles of brush aside, he revealed the decomposed carcass of a humanoid whose body was covered in cybernetic implants.

Janeway's face darkened. "You were right, Talia. These people were attacked by the Borg."


	24. Gods and Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia begins receiving strange visions, and is convinced they're from the Prophets. On a scouting mission in the Nekrit Expanse, she and Chakotay answer a Federation distress call and find themselves in some very unexpected company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episodes: DS9 5x15 By Inferno's Light, VOY 3x17 Unity

" _The Dominion recognizes us for what we are: the true leaders of the Alpha Quadrant. And now that we are joined together, equal partners in all endeavors, the only people with anything to fear will be our enemies. My oldest son's birthday is in five days. To him and to Cardassians everywhere, I make the following pledge. By the time his birthday dawns, there will not be a single Klingon alive inside Cardassian territory or a single Maquis colony left within our borders. Cardassia will be made whole."_

Our entire cell stared at the viewscreen in wide-eyed horror as Gul Dukat announced that the Cardassian Union had become a part of the Dominion— the largest power in the Gamma Quadrant. Beside me, Chakotay grabbed my hand, drawing my attention to him. "The locusts have come."

The next thing I knew, I was on Valo I, alone, walking slowly through the burned-out shelters in what once was the largest Bajoran refugee camp. I could smell the smoke of bombs mingled with the stench of rotting flesh. All around me, Bajoran men, women, and children lay where they had fallen, ruthlessly cut down by the Dominion. I chanted for them over and over again in the tongue of our mothers, for my voice was the only one left to lift their souls up to the Celestial Temple.

My feet were bare, yet the shrapnel and the rocks didn't cut them. The hem of my _ranjen'i_ robe brushed the tops of my feet, heavy with the mud and the blood that was still slick on the ground. As I reached the top of the hill, I looked over the scene in the valley below— ten thousand Dominion-bred Jem’Hadar soldiers with skin of blue-white scales were systematically moving through the camp, vaporizing remains. Just then, I realized that the bodies were no longer just Bajoran; there were Maquis, Federation, Klingon, Romulan and Cardassian troops among the dead. Their bodies stretched farther than I could see.

Just as I was about to turn back, one of the soldiers stopped what he was doing, looked to the sky, and shouted a warning. Within seconds, a whole fleet of Borg cubes came into view through the clouds. Countless drones beamed to the surface and swept through the camp, assimilating the Jem’Hadar.

Then, I was standing in the middle of a city on Cardassia Prime, watching the same Borg fleet take the planet. I was apart from the fray somehow, yet I could hear the screams of the people being killed or assimilated.

I could also hear the Borg hive mind— billions of voices speaking as one. “Cardassia has fallen. The Federation will attempt to resist. They will fortify Bajor and Deep Space Nine. They will fail. They will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."

No. This couldn't be happening. I had to stop it. I had to save Bajor. I had to save the Temple— and Deep Space Nine.

I had to get back to _Voyager_.

I pulled my knife from the the belt of my command-red Bajoran Militia uniform. My boots pounded on the pavement as I ran towards a burned-out hangar. Somehow, I made it inside, but just as I reached the shuttle's airlock, a drone stepped out. I stopped short, a strangled cry escaping my lips.

The drone was Marnah.

When she spoke, it wasn't with the voice of the hive, and neither did she speak like herself. She was something else entirely.

"The hive descends. Bajor now stands alone against a swarm of locusts, and her eyes remain on them. But, in the north, the hive has awakened a beast, and the beast will scatter the hive. The hive descends upon the locusts, and the locusts will be consumed. The hive descends upon Bajor, but Bajor cannot see them. All near the gateway to the Temple will be consumed by the hive. All will be cut off from the Temple, and linear existence will fall into non-linear wars without guidance. The hive will join the war; its hunger is never satisfied. All existence is at risk. The _Voyager_ must seek the hive. The beast must be sent back. The hive must be destroyed as one. All existence is consumed. All existence is saved."

* * *

I sat, bolt upright, on a biobed in sickbay. Harry, Captain Janeway, and Dr. Schmullis all stood around the bed, looking at me with concern.

"Her neural pathways are stabilizing," Schmullis said, scanning me with a medical tricorder. "But, her synaptic potentials are still odd. How are you feeling, Commander?"

I put my hand to my head, feeling as though I was on the edge of a migraine that was slowly receding. The dream— or was it a vision? It felt so real, so intentional, so important, but it was already starting to fade around the edges. What did it mean?

Harry wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "You wouldn't wake this morning. You were having some strange neural activity. The doc was trying to figure out what was going on, and then suddenly you just came out of it."

" _Pagh'tem'far_ ," I whispered.

"What?" 

" _Ih'va_ — _ah. Ah_." I stuttered and swore in Bajoran, my brain somehow struggling more than it usually did to shift between my two native languages. The vision had been in Bajoran, but the computer usually expected me to speak in Standard. The translator must have been quite confused by my speech. If everyone hadn't looked so worried, they would probably have been amused.

"Vision," I finally spat out. "It is a sacred vision of the soul, sent from the Prophets. I didn't really believe it before, but now— I saw it all, and I saw our place in it. One thing leads to another and another until it destroys us all, unless we break the chain."

They all exchanged looks, likely wondering if I had lost my mind. I had to tell them— warn them— but, how? It was all fading so fast.

I grabbed Janeway's wrist and looked her resolutely in the eye, overwhelmed with an irresistible need to give her a message. I didn't even know what I was saying, only that I had to say it. "War! Locusts from beyond the Temple have descended on the Federation, consuming many souls. Bajor weeps, and the Federation with them, and they do not feel the wind rising from the north. The hive has awakened a beast; the beast will scatter the hive to the winds, and all existence will be consumed. The _Voyager_ must find the hive. The _Voyager_ must stop the beast."

Then, everything went black.

* * *

Personal Log: Stardate 50614.2

It's been two weeks since my vision of the Alpha Quadrant. I still can't remember much of it, but I get flashes of things in my dreams— locusts flying past Bajor towards Cardassian space, swarming the border planets, invading the Federation; Romulan, Klingon, and Federation ships fortifying Deep Space Nine; millions of bodies from almost every Alpha and Beta Quadrant species, and billions more assimilated by the Borg; a strangely familiar Terran woman and a Romulan man casting off their cybernetic implants and putting on human clothes; an alien creature glaring at me with malice; my mother as a Borg drone, telling me, "all existence is consumed, all existence is saved." We haven't detected any trace of Borg activity since we found that fifty-year-old dead drone on the Sakari homeworld. Still, the Nekrit Expanse is a big place.

Chakotay and I are now finishing a scouting mission, trying to find a faster route through the expanse, though I'm not sure our data is going to provide much help.

* * *

"We're clearing the nebula," I told Chakotay, "but I'm still having trouble with navigation. Are you having any luck?"

He shook his head. "My sensors are scrambled, too. Attempting to hail _Voyager_ again." A pause. "No response."

"Engage optical sensors," I said.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded teasingly.

I smiled. At times, it could be quite enjoyable having a superior officer as my co-pilot.

Chakotay's console chirped. "I'm picking up a Federation hailing beacon, bearing three-oh-nine mark four."

" _Voyager_?" 

"Hard to tell, but I doubt it would be anyone else. Set a course."

"Yes, _sir,_ " I teased, smiling as I entered the coordinbates into the con. As we got within visual range of the signal's source, we found that it was coming from a planet. I frowned. "Did they land?"

He did a quick sensor sweep and shook his head. "Sensor readings are sketchy. I'm detecting about eighty thousand humanoid life forms on the western continent, some rudimentary structures and technology, but no energy signature big enough to be a starship." His console chirped again. "We're being hailed. Opening a channel."

A woman's voice came through the com. "Calling approaching Federation vessel. We need your help urgently."

Chakotay and I exchanged a quick glance before he responded. “This is Commander Chakotay of the starship _Voyager_. Please identify yourself.”

”I’m not reading you,” the woman said. “Federation vessel, please—“ Her voice cut off in a short burst of static just before the com channel closed.

”I’ve lost them,” Chakotay mumbled. 

“How could they know to identify us as a Federation ship?” I asked. 

“Whoever they are, they’re asking for our help. I’m going to launch a message buoy letting _Voyager_ know we’ve landed in response to a distress call. Then, I want you to take us down.”

There was no humor at all in my tone when I replied, “Yes, sir.”

* * *

On the surface, we found little more than ramshackle buildings covered in energy weapon burns. With tricorders and phasers in hand, we quietly proceeded towards the source of the signal, which was emanating from a building on the far side of the village square.

Out of the darkness, cloaked figures emerged all around us, brandishing various energy weapons. Chakotay put away his tricorder and phaser, and lifted his hands in the air.

I made no such gesture.

He wanted to establish a peaceful conversation with them, but it was clear they were not interested in diplomacy. When one of the men raised his weapon, I lunged at Chakotay, shoving him out of the line of fire and safely behind a small structure to our right.

As soon as we had our cover, we crouched back-to-back, exchanging fire with our attackers until only two of the cloaks remained. The one with a smaller weapon circled around my side of our structure, pounding us with fire as he ran from cover to cover. He wanted to distract us from his friend with the big gun, but we knew the strategy and kept each other’s backs covered.

Then, the cloak shot my arm.

I yelped and dropped my phaser. Though Chakotay only turned his head for a moment, it was long enough; the second cloak emerged and charged his weapon.

"Tay!" I yelled.

Chakotay’s finger was on the trigger before he even saw the man, and they both fired at once.

I could feel the heat of the energy weapon course through my friend’s body, could feel him convulse as it did. He made an awful choking sound as he tried to cry out. Then, I heard his body thud against the hard ground.

The first cloak opened fire on me again. I dodged the volley and reached for Chakotay's phaser, which had fallen to the ground. Flipping it in hand, I aimed at the cloak’s chest only to see someone else's weapon hit him from behind.

He yelped and ran from three new cloaked figures, one of whom was carrying a disruptor the size of a small phase canon.

I trained my phaser on the cloak with the canon, shielding Chakotay's body with my own. I expected her to turn the weapon on me, but she put it on the ground.

All three cloaks raised their hands.

One of the cloaks— a bald Terran-looking man— stepped forward. "Federation citizen, we mean you no harm. Raiders have already begun to strip your shuttlecraft, and more raiders will be coming soon. We cannot fight them all, but we can help you. Let us take you and your comrade to safety."

Slowly, I lowered my phaser and nodded.

* * *

"Riley! We have wounded," shouted the Terran— whose name, I learned, was David— as we entered a building in their compound. I stopped short when a familiar blonde-haired Terran woman rushed towards us.

"Hello, Commander," she said, taking note of my rank. "My name is Riley Frazier. I'm the one who contacted you. You're safe here."

My mind tugged at the threads of a memory, and it quickly unraveled before me. I was at home, on leave for my nephew’s birthday, when I received a com from Starfleet Medical that the ship on which I was completing my clinical hours had been destroyed in battle with the Borg at Wolf 359. I remembered pacing the halls of my parents' house, numb with shock, until I saw Daddy alone in his office. He stared, pale-faced, at his computer console as it listed the names and photos of crewmen in his fleet who had been injured, killed, or assimilated by the Borg. I remembered Marnah and grandma agreeing, for once, on a spiritual matter— both insisting that we needed to pray for each and every name and face on that list to honor their sacrifice.

One of those names had been _Dr. Riley Frazier_.

"I recognize you," I blurted out. "You were at Wolf 359. You served on one of my father's ships. My mother and I, we lit the _duranja_ for a month when your fleet was lost."

She exchanged glances with David, then looked again at me. "As I said, I will explain, but right now, you need help. Please, let us help you. You have nothing to fear from us."

"I'm not afraid," I said. "I saw you in a dream, just last week. You were with a Romulan man, removing Borg implants and putting on clothes. This sounds crazy, I know, but I think we were supposed to find you."

* * *

"Talia."

My eyes snapped open at the sound of Chakotay's voice, yanking me from sleep. I smiled. "Tay. How are you feeling?"

He winced as he sat up, putting his hand to his head. "Like hell. Where are we?"

"The people who hailed us, they came to our rescue just after you were shot. The raiders stripped the shuttle, so we'll be stuck here for a few days while the cooperative repairs their communications array."

"I can help with that.” He tried to stand, but stopped short as his face twisted again in pain.

I put my uninjured hand to his chest. "Not so fast. The energy blast that hit you depolarized your basal ganglia. You're in pretty bad shape. The more active you are, the faster your neural sheaths depolarize, and you need to hang in there until _Voyager_ comes for us because the medic here can't perform the surgery you need. They've got a lot of people working on it already. You just rest, and stay with me, okay?"

He nodded and laid back down. 

"There's something you need to know about these people. They—"

The door opened, and Riley walked in. "Good, you're both awake," she said as she approached the bed. "How do you feel, Chakotay?"

His eyes were wide as they fixated on her face. "You're Terran!"

She nodded and smiled. "Yes. My name is Riley Frazier. I'm here to help you."

"How—" Chakotay tried to sit up again, but winced and grabbed his head.

Without a word, I shoved him back down. Riley looked at me, and I shook my head. "I was just about to tell him when you walked in.”

"Tell me what?"

"They used to be Borg."

He frowned.

Riley gave him a nervous smile. "I was a science officer aboard the _Roosevelt_ when it was destroyed at Wolf 359. The cube picked up my escape pod, and three others, for assimilation. Five years ago, our cube was severely damaged, and our link to the Collective was severed. We salvaged what we could from the cube and transported here. We removed most of our implants and became individuals again."

"Why did those people attack us?" Chakotay asked.

"There are dozens of different races on this planet. Resources are pretty limited. It didn't take long for the fighting to start. At first, a group of Klingons attacked the Cardassians, then the Farn raided the Parein. Eventually things just got out of hand, and now it's anarchy. But some of us, a few hundred or so, we've tried to make the best of it. We've established a cooperative, sharing work and whatever provisions we have. You must both be hungry. I can show you where to get food."

"Tay," I said, "I need to talk with Riley, and you need to rest. I'll bring some food and water for you when I'm done, okay?" I knew it drove him crazy to be left out, but he nodded and relaxed his head against the pillow.

I stood and followed Riley to another part of the building. "Thank you so much for everything you've done.”

"I'm glad we can help," she said. "I apologize for the trouble we've put you in, but we could use your help, if you would be willing to give it. But first, tell me about _Voyager_. How did a Federation starship end up in the Delta Quadrant?"

As we moved through the pantry to select foods, then into the kitchen to prepare them, I did my best to summarize everything that had happened in Federation space since the battle at Wolf 359. I chopped vegetables while I told her about the liberation of Bajor, the joint Bajoran-Federation presence at Deep Space Nine, the discovery of the Bajoran wormhole leading to the Gamma Quadrant, the Cardassian treaties and the Maquis. I told her about our encounter with the Caretaker, Captain Janeway’s decision to destroy the array and protect the vulnerable Ocampans from invasion, and how we had combined two crews into one on _Voyager_.

"How much longer do you expect your journey home will take you?" she asked.

"About sixty-seven years, provided we don't run into any wormholes or transwarp technologies to speed us along."

"Haven't you ever thought about finding some nice M-Class planet and putting down roots?"

I nodded. "The thought has occurred to us. We've even had a couple of tempting offers from people we've encountered along the way. But, this crew is special. Not a single one of them has wanted to stay behind. I suppose we’ve become something of a family these past two and a half years." I smiled. "What about you? I'm sure Captain Janeway would be more than happy to bring anyone on board who wanted to come. Or, to help strengthen your cooperative however we can, if you'd rather stay here."

She returned my smile. "For better or worse, this place has become our home. The people in the cooperative— we have a deep connection to one another that I've never felt with anyone before. We want to stay, but we do need your help. Security upgrades, medical supplies, maybe some weapons."

“I understand. I have no doubt that the captain will, as well."

"You said—" she hesitated for a moment before continuing. "You said you saw us in a dream, and that you felt you were meant to find us. What did you mean by that?"

"I honestly don't know. A lot of strange things have been happening lately. With Commander Sisko's discovery of the Bajoran wormhole, he officially made first contact with an extra-dimensional species that the Bajorans have worshiped for thousands of years. We call them the Prophets. Even after I found out that they were real, I was still skeptical of the claims my mother's religion made about them. But, lately, it seems more and more like they wanted us here. They've given me dreams and visions of a future where Borg are in the Alpha Quadrant. I don't know what it all means, or what it has to do with _Voyager,_  but I do get the feeling that I saw you and Orum for a reason. Maybe it was just to let me know that I could trust you."

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad you did. It's good to see someone from Starfleet again."

* * *

For two days, the cooperative worked tirelessly on the communications array. I allowed Chakotay brief respites from bed, taking him for slow walks around the building, but mostly I told him to rest. Even as careful as we were, his condition quickly worsened. Soon, he couldn't even stand, and I worried that he wouldn't last long enough for _Voyager_ to find us.

Orum, a Romulan who served as the cooperative’s medic, confirmed my fears late the second afternoon. He informed me that there was one way they might be able to save Chakotay’s life.

"Would it be safe?" Riley asked.

"Would _what_ be safe?" Chakotay said hoarsely.

Riley and Orum exchanged glances, then Riley approached Chakotay's bed. “We still have Borg neural processors implanted in our nervous systems. Removing them would have killed us. We have built a portable neural transponder that we can use to generate a small neuroelectric field to re-link our brain patterns for a short time, and we can use this to forward neuro-regenerative energy towards anyone who is ill. If we attach a neurotransciever to the base of your skull, we could link your brain patterns with ours and use our neural energy to repolarize your neural sheaths."

Chakotay recoiled. "You— you want to hook me up to some Borg collective?"

"We'd be in complete control," Orum reassured him. "You'd just be linked for a limited time to Riley, me, and a few of the others in our group willing to help you."

Chakotay shook his head, but I stepped forward. "And me."

"What?" Chakotay exclaimed. "Talia, are you serious?"

"I had a similar condition in my brain," I told Orum, "after my vision two weeks ago. But my brain corrected itself. My Bajoran neurology helps me withstand greater stress in my basal ganglia than Terrans can. If you have a second neurotransciever for me, I want to help."

Orum nodded, then turned back to my friend. "If we don't do something soon to slow the neural degradation, Chakotay, you will die."

I sat on the edge of his bed and took his hand in mine. "Please, Tay. Let us try." I quirked my lips into a half-smile. "Besides, the captain will demote me all the way back down to ensign if I let you die. Do you really want to be carrying around that kind of guilt for all of eternity?"

The edges of his mouth pulled upwards at my joke. With a sigh, he nodded.

* * *

After dinner, everything was ready for the procedure. Six other members of the cooperative followed Riley and Orum into the room. Orum attached the neurotranscievers to mine and Chakotay's necks, and activated the neural transponder.

It was as if a door in my mind had been opened. I stepped out of my own private space and into an open courtyard where all of us existed together under the same blue sky. Hearing their thoughts could have easily been overwhelming, but with Riley and Orum’s leadership, it felt more like hearing a favorite song and picking up the tune.

"Open your mind to our thoughts," we said, "and concentrate on getting well. Hear our voices. Open your mind to our thoughts. Our collective strength can heal you. You are safe with us. Feel the connection. We are with you. See who we are. Know us. You are not alone. Our strength is your strength. We can overcome your pain. We welcome you into our thoughts. There is nothing to fear. We will not let you die. We are all one circle— no beginning, no end."

Memories flooded into my mind like sunlight into a dark room. I could experience the lives of each person in the collective— their families, their loved ones, the trauma of their assimilation, and the joy of their liberation. I touched Texas wildflowers with Riley's little-girl fingers as the smell of barbecued brisket wafted over from the house. I saw Kora’s pet targ on Qo'noS, and tousled the mangy beast’s fur. I felt David’s desperation as he dug one of his security officers out of a pile of rubble, only to find her already dead. I saw Kathryn's crooked smile as she pressed her cheek into Chakotay's touch, and felt my heart swell with his love.

I saw Marnah walking down a street in Ashalla like an emissary of revolution, surrounded by laypeople and militia clamoring to meet the noble Eelo _tahl’ral_  who became the first to draw Kardasi blood. 

More and more memories flowed around us like air until a new alien mind entered the collective. It did not belong to any of us or to our corporeal existence, and yet it felt strangely familiar to me. All at once, I realized what Q had meant when he questioned Marnah before the captain and me— when he looked upon me with fear in his eyes that I never knew a Q could feel.

I carried a Prophet with me, inside my own mind.

It was the Prophets who were tampering with time. They had exchanged the _Valjean_ and _Voyager_ for Marnah’s raider. They were the reason Terrans were in the Delta Quadrant a hundred years too soon.

Then, like a locked closet that had been thrown open in the back of my mind, the visions and dreams I'd had over the last two weeks burst forth into the courtyard of our collective. They were no longer disjointed, but connected in an orb of space-time, showing us how separate linear events were converging to move our universe in a dark direction, and how important we all were in the Prophet's plans to bring it back into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ranjen: priest  
> duranja: lamp for the dead


	25. Path of the Prophets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episodes: DS9 5x15 By Inferno's Light, VOY 3x17 Unity

The next morning, I woke up crying. I had been dreaming about the Dominion’s slaughter of Maquis and Bajoran people on DMZ border planets. The Prophet hadn't shown me what happened to Marnah, but I knew she was most likely killed defending refugees in the Valo system.

I did my best to control my emotions, but Chakotay stirred awake anyway.

"I'm sorry.” I wiped at the tears with my now-healed right hand. Chakotay was crying, as well, though he looked rather confused about it. "It's a residual effect from the link,” I explained.” The field stimulated our latent psionic abilities. As long as we stay in close proximity, we'll feel each other for another hour or two. I, uh— I can leave, if you want."

He grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. "No. I want you to stay here."

Tears welled up in my eyes again, brought on by the mix of emotions I felt coming from him— grief, loneliness, clarity, and love.

Chakotay pulled me into a hug. "We don't know for sure what happened to any of them. We don't know who survived. But if anyone could survive that, it would be Fayeni. I'm not sure it's even possible to kill that woman."

Although I knew he was trying his best to be positive, I laughed in spite of my tears. Before the Maquis, Chakotay had worked with Marnah asinstructors of Starfleet’s Advanced Tactical Training courses. He knew first-hand how tough she really was— a mark I had never quite been able to reach.

I wasn’t entirely convinced he was right, but I allowed myself to entertain the possibility for just a little while.

Sharing the residual psionic connection with Chakotay, even if neither one of us had a clue how to control it, was an entirely new way to process grief. I was grateful that we could walk through our feelings together as friends. Like with Tom, my relationship with Chakotay had only gotten better since the night we severed our romantic ties. Without the aching, tangled knots of attraction and desire, we were able to see each other with a clarity that simply hadn’t been available to us before.

For a few hours, we felt each other with that very same clarity, and I wondered why the hell telepaths bothered to speak at all.

The Prophet stayed, mercifully, quiet. Still, Chakotay and I couldn’t help but ponder the meaning of her presence. Neither of us knew what to do with all that we had seen, but we knew that it mattered more than anything— as if our entire lives had been directed towards this goal. If the Prophet was to be believed, the freedom of all life might depend on our one little ship.

And we depended on one intrepid Prophet to guide us along the path laid out for us.

* * *

After lunch, Chakotay and I joined the cooperative in their efforts to repair the communications array. Silently, I considered the Prophet's vision and what it had to do with the cooperative's plan, which Chakotay and I had become aware of the night before. 

They wanted _Voyager_ to reactivate the neural field generator on the abandoned Borg cube just long enough to reestablish a permanent mental link between all the former drones on the planet.

The cooperative believed that having a unified mind would put an end to the inter-species conflicts that caused so much strife throughout the settlement. On one hand, the thought of helping them establish a collective— especially without the agreement of all the former drones— was disconcerting. On the other hand, my own experience within their collective was nothing short of amazing. Were it not for the Borg’s insistence on removing individuality from its drones, I might have been interested in assimilation. It felt... good.

As I was weighing my thoughts and feelings on the matter, Orum rushed over to inform us that _Voyager_ was in orbit of the planet. Riley turned to Chakotay, but he and I both knew what was on her mind. The link had faded, yet we remained connected in some deep, unspeakable way.

Chakotay invited Riley to return with us so she could speak to Captain Janeway about her plan for ending the conflict in their city. Of course, she readily agreed.

* * *

In the meeting room, Riley explained their situation. “We believe the solution to our problem is to establish the neural link among all former Borg living on the planet.”

Janeway blinked. “You can’t be serious.”

“When we were linked, we had no ethnic conflict. There was no crime, no hunger, and no health problems. We lived as one harmonious family.”

“With all due respect, Dr. Frazier, you were one harmonious family bent on the violent assimilation of innocent cultures.”

“But we’re not Borg anymore. We’ve learned from our past. All we want is to take the one good thing that existed in the midst of all that horror— our unique ability to cooperate and problem-solve— and use it to create a safe and productive community.”

Janeway paused, studying Riley’s face. “Tell me how, exactly.”

“The neurotransponder we've built is only powerful enough to link a small group of people, like the one that healed Chakotay's wounds. In any case, the effect is temporary. In order to re-connect the entire population permanently, we'd need a much bigger neuroelectric field generator.”

“I'm afraid we don't have anything like that.”

“But the Borg cube does.”

“Captain,” I interjected, “What they're asking us to do is reactivate that ship's neuroelectric generator and redirect it toward the planet.”

The captain’s eyes widened. “They want us to reactivate a Borg ship?”

“Not the whole ship,” Riley said, “just the generator. And it only needs to be operational for a few minutes in order to reactivate the link.”

“There's no telling what would happen if we turned on one of those generators,” Janeway argued, “even for an instant. For all we know it would attract other Borg vessels.”

“Captain, I can assure you we'd take every precaution.”

The captain pressed her lips together, pausing for a moment to study Riley’s face. Her lips curled up a little at the corners, eyes reflecting the sympathy I knew she must have felt. "Dr. Frazier, I admire your tenacity, and I respect your courage. I'll give you medical supplies, I'll assist you with upgrading your security, I'll even take some of you with us if you want to come, but, as to what you're proposing, I have to tell you I'm extremely skeptical. In fairness however, I will give it some further thought."

Riley thanked her and followed a security escort out of the room.

Janeway turned to us. "Do you think we should do what they're asking?"

Chakotay and I exchanged glances. We both knew what we had been shown by the Prophet— that the cooperative would succeed in bringing peace to the liberated former drones on the planet. But, the vision had been vague on how that peace would come about, and we both had deep reservations about the cooperative's plan.

Chakotay answered honestly. “I really care about what happens to these people, so in my heart I’d like to do everything we can to help them. But, if I were sitting in your chair, I’d have to take other considerations into account.”

The captain looked to me next. "I, too, am concerned about their future,” I said. “But, to be honest, I have a bad feeling about the whole thing. Forcing this new collective on thousands of people without their consent, even for a good cause, settles badly in my stomach. And, even if every single person did agree, I wonder how long it would take for their collective to be corrupted. For all we know, the first Borg had good intentions when they started, too."

She nodded. "I agree. Helping to create a new collective would be a terrible risk. Who knows what the repercussions might be?"

”I’ll let Dr. Frazier know,” Chakotay said.

* * *

Chakotay and I spent the rest of the day stocking the cooperative with various supplies to help them survive and grow. We finished just as the sun set, said our good-byes, and took our shuttle back up to _Voyager_.

Partway through our trip, we both felt our minds being pulled back into the collective. Instead of feeling like an open courtyard, it seemed more akin to being pitched into a raging river without a life vest. I was no longer in control of my own thoughts or decisions.

The cooperative was under attack. If we didn’t act quickly, they would be killed.

All I could think about, in that moment, was how to re-establish the neural link. Without a word, Chakotay and I changed course and made our way towards the Borg cube.

Somehow, my mind broke through the rushing current of thoughts in which it had been submerged. Without hesitation, I grabbed the phaser from under my console and stunned Chakotay.

I had been rescued from the river of the collective, and dragged into a boat steered by the Prophet in my head. Like an instinct, I trusted the Prophet to take control of the situation, and submitted my body to her purpose. Through me, she kept us on-course for the Borg vessel.

Once we arrived, I powered down the shuttle's engines and flattened my palms against the console, drawing some of the shuttle's energy into myself. After I had absorbed all my body could handle, I moved to the aft section of the shuttle and suited up.

Then, I beamed onto the abandoned cube.

First, of course, I needed life support. No use inhabiting a corporeal body if I was just going to kill it. Slapping a power cell onto a console, I powered up the computer core and got a localized atmosphere set up. Once the area pressurized, I unsuited, walked over to the largest control interface I saw, laid my palms against it, and released all of the energy from the shuttle into the screen. I closed my eyes so I could visualize how I wanted the molecules of the screen to arrange themselves. It wasn't long before the work was complete, and I opened my eyes to see an empty orb on the now-bare panel in front of me.

Wrapping my hands around it, I conjured up a powerful vision of freedom and peace on the planet below us, and I poured that vision into the crystalline vessel. When that was finished, I moved to a different console and began tapping into the computer core again— this time, looking for transporters.

Footsteps approached, almost imperceptibly, behind me. "Commander," said Tuvok, "step away from the console, or I will be forced to fire."

I turned. Tuvok had brought three junior security officers with him, but I made sure to look only at Tuvok— locking onto his dark, stern gaze. "The Eelo must complete her task. The hive has no place within the Eelo. The Eelo is of Bajor; she is a willing vessel. This hive must not be allowed to be joined. Peace must be freely given, and freely accepted."

I stepped aside, revealing a glowing orb. "The Prophet must give them peace, and the Eelo must destroy the hive."

Tuvok stared blankly at the orb as the light within it caressed his face. It shared my vision with him— a vision of unity among the former Borg who would be so important in the war to come. When the light’s grasp released him, he looked at me and nodded.

With Tuvok’s support, I turned back to the console. Within seconds, I had activated the cube's transporter and beamed the orb to the surface of the planet.

It would take time, but the people in that village would learn to know peace freely. Someday, they would be ready to defend that peace— that freedom— from the Collective that had stolen it from them to begin with.

I checked with the cube’s sensors to ensure that Janeway had tractored the shuttle and its unconscious co-pilot into _Voyager’s_ shuttle bay; she had. Then, I accessed the cube’s secondary processors and initiated an auto-destruct sequence. Finally, I transported myself, Tuvok, and the security team safely back to _Voyager_.

With that, the Prophet relinquished control of my body back to me.


	26. In the Arms of Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episodes: VOY 2x4 Elogium, 3x17 Before and After, 4x8/9 Year of Hell
> 
> Bajoran wedding vows inspired by DS9 5x26 Call to Arms and The Bajoran Language Project, along with my own tweaks.
> 
> CW: Grief for lost parent

"Talia?"

I opened my eyes as Harry shook me awake. I had fallen asleep on the living room floor in front of my _duranja_ — again. Coming to my knees, I reached my arms up and stretched tight muscles.

"It's 0600," he said with a sigh before making his way to the head.

My emotional withdrawal wore on him more with every passing day. We had only just turned in our request to share my quarters on the night I had my first vision, and I hadn't gotten many peaceful nights since then. But, Harry was as good and patient as ever, knowing without asking to respect my need for space. When I was ready, I would go to him.

I leaned back against the wall and stared into the lamp’s flame.

The final two weeks of our journey through the Nekrit Expanse had gone by much like this. I kept as busy as I could, working past shift’s end every day, hoping to fall into bed too exhausted to dream. Yet, I laid awake at night, in spite of my exhaustion, because I saw the dead on Valo whenever I closed my eyes. In time, I found that sitting by the _duranja_ made me feel connected to them all, and to Marnah.

It was the only place I could sleep.

My eyes filled with tears, blurring the light of the flame, as I prayed for protection over Marnah’s _pagh_ , along with the souls of all those slain, as they traveled to whatever afterlife might await them. “ _Uranak ralanon Eelo Fayeni. Uranak anja Valo'yan per vel bajori'yan. Propeh va nara ehsuk shala-kan vunek_."

If Marnah was dead, I knew she had died in defense of the innocent. That thought helped me feel a little better, but a splinter of doubt in her goodness still stuck in my skin. It wasn't merely her death that disturbed me, but the gut feeling that she had lied to me about who or what she was.

I was terrified that perhaps I hadn't ever really known her at all.

* * *

Beyond the limits of my quarters, I put on a well-practiced front of normalcy. Admittedly, the previous evening’s ceremony, held in honor of Kes completing her doctorate, did lift my spirits a fair bit. Still, it was a quiet breakfast between Harry and me until our friends showed up.

"So, have you two decided yet?" Tom asked as he slid into the seat next to me. B'Elanna took the seat across from him, just beside Harry, and leaned in expectantly.

I exchanged glances with Harry, then smiled at Tom. "Yes, I decided that Harry can have you as his best man. Although, the idea of putting you in a formal gown was deeply amusing to us both."

B'Elanna grinned at Tom, a glint of mischief in her eye. "I agree. A blue one, with lots of lace."

Tom laughed and shook his head. "I guess that means you'll probably ask Chakotay, then?"

"Well, according to some Terran customs, the best man and maid of honor are supposed to be the second to dance at the reception. And, as amusing as it would be to enforce that tradition on you and Chakotay, there's someone else that I'd rather see you dance with." I gestured towards B'Elanna.

She looked at me with confusion for a moment, then her eyes widened as she realized what I was implying. "Wait, what? Me? Oh, ha-ha, very funny, Talia."

Tom grinned impishly. "I don't know why you're being so resistant, B'Elanna. I'm an excellent dancer."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Very cute, flyboy. But obviously Chakotay deserves to be her attendant more than I do."

Tom leaned closer. "But, if he's her attendant, who's going to walk her down the aisle?"

"Unlike Terrans," I interjected, "Bajorans don't give our daughters away as if they were property."

"Ah, right, women are the head of the Bajoran family." He turned to Harry. "So, who’s giving you away, then?"

"Commander Chakotay," Harry answered with a shrug.

"Awkward."

"Right? But what can I do? She's the boss."

I rolled my eyes.

"Wait a minute," B'Elanna cut in. "Talia, are you being serious?"

"I am. It's Terran custom to have a same-sex attendant to hold the rings and plan the bachelor parties. Believe it or not, B'Elanna, you're one of my best female friends here."

She blinked, slightly shocked by my admission. Even in the Maquis, B'Elanna had kept me at arm's length, always nervous about what my psychological training might tell me about her. Little by little, she had allowed me to come closer— most notably after our encounter with the divergence field— but the truest connection we shared was our unique understanding of what it was like to grow up as bicultural aliens surrounded by Terrans.

Yet even in that, our experiences were wildly divergent.

After a few moments, B'Elanna offered a half-smile. "Well, I'm no party planner.”

"You're the chief," I returned. "Delegate."

“Wait," Tom interjected, looking at Harry, "I get to throw a bachelor party for you?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed, "but nothing too crazy, Tom, okay?"

Tom glanced at me, and I ticked an eyebrow. When he looked back at Harry, he wore his most charming smile. "Don't worry, Harry. Just some good, clean fun."

* * *

Chief Science Officer’s Log, supplemental

Dr. Schmullis’ anti-chroniton procedure has successfully brought Dr. Kes back into temporal sync with us, thus ending her journey backwards through time. Upon waking from the procedure, Kes stated that her memories of the past have been completely restored, and she has also confirmed that her memories of the future are also in tact. While it has been agreed that she should keep most of her experiences from our future to herself, there is one particular species that she insists we must avoid.

* * *

"They're called the Krenim," Kes told the senior staff in briefing. "In my timeline, we encounter them on stardate 51283.6. They don't negotiate; they just attack. As we attempt to get through their space, they devastate _Voyager_. The crew later come to refer to this time as the ‘ _year of hell_.'"

"What exactly do you mean by ' _devastate_ '?" Tom asked.

"A lot of good people are killed, and the ship is nearly destroyed. The experience will leave deep emotional scars on the crew."

Tuvok folded his hands. "What can you tell us about their chroniton-based weapons, other than the temporal variance frequency?"

"They can pass through _Voyager's_ shields because they are in a state of temporal flux. After the first attack, we found a fragment of one lodged in a jefferey's tube, which was leaking chroniton radiation into the entire ship. The Prophet accompanying Lieutenant Commander Eelo was forced to leave suddenly due to its sensitivity to chroniton radiation, and the entire crew had to be inoculated."

"Chroniton radiation?" I asked, surprised to learn that a Prophet could be vulnerable to anything in our lower-dimensional existence. "Interesting."

"Do you have any idea how to stop the torpedoes?" Chakotay asked.

Kes nodded. "You were able to destroy their torpedo launchers by remodulating the targeting scanners to a parametric frequency."

"We could also use the temporal variance of the torpedo to modify our shields so they will deflect the Krenim's weapons," B'Elanna suggested.

"Only if the temporal variance remains unchanged," Tuvok said. "There are still many variables that could lead to a different outcome than the future that Dr. Kes experienced. The Krenim we encounter, if we do indeed encounter them, could be different from the Krenim she encountered."

"That may be true," Captain Janeway said, "but I'll take any advantage we might have. Chief, work with Mister Kim on those modifications. I want to be as ready as we can be if we do run into them."

B'Elanna gave a curt nod. "Aye, Captain."

* * *

After my shift that evening, I finally gave into doing something that I'd tried to convince myself not to do— I paid a visit to Iliana. I needed her to finally tell me what it was she had been hinting at during our initial conversation in sickbay.

"I wondered if you were ever going to ask," she remarked.

"I have to know the truth."

"You know as well as I do that you can't trust anything I said that day, with that Bajoran's memories still mucking up my mind. I wasn't thinking straight."

I stared at her blankly for several seconds, waiting for her to say more. "That's it?"

She quirked her brow, skewing the beige-grey ridges around her eyes. "I told you that I didn't know anything, and that I wouldn't tell you if I did. Besides, do you really want Janeway knowing that you're trying to gather intel behind her back? You could lose that shiny bar on your collar."

"I'm not here for intel. I just—I need to know—"

"If she lied to you?" she interrupted. "All parents lie to their children."

"This is different."

"Is it, though? Surely, you must know things that you have to keep from dear Harry. Is that a betrayal of your personal relationship?"

"No," I answered. "It's just protocol."

Iliana leaned forward in her seat, angling towards me. "One does what one must for the good of one's own people. It's not personal; it's duty. You Starfleet like to think that truth is some immutable, absolute thing that you can just hold up for everyone to accept, but it's not. Truth is what you perceive it to be. It changes from moment to moment, and person to person. You already know the truth. There are other truths that you don't know, but they won't change what you do know." With a sly smile, she relaxed back in her chair. "When you accept that, you'll sleep better than ever."

* * *

Harry was already at home when I arrived— weary, heartbroken, and feeling completely alone in my grief. Only the senior staff and Kes knew about my vision, and no one was ready to jump to any conclusions about the fate of the Maquis based on that alone. Still, it was better feeling something definite after two weeks of nothing but aimless despair.

Iliana was right; I knew my mother loved Bajor, and I also knew that she loved our family. That was my truth, and I would accept nothing else. I also realized that I might never know the reality of what happened, so I chose to go ahead and accept that which I knew to be the most likely scenario. Since I would certainly be assumed dead, and neither of my siblings would be willing to take up the mantle in my place, my aunt Aradne would be named the Kori'Asmara— leader of the Eelo family. I believed she would do well in that role, though with the d'jarra'i gone, it was more of an honorary title anymore.

So, instead of numbly curling up in front of the duranja once again, I padded wordlessly over to my husband-to-be, allowed him to tuck me tightly into his embrace, and finally let myself grieve the woman who had meant more to me than anyone else ever could. When my tears were spent, Harry gently guided me into bed, pulled me close, and stroked my hair until I fell asleep to the familiar sound of his beating heart.

* * *

Although the future Kes told us about seemed bleak, there was at least one positive that came from her experience. The research project she undertook for her doctorate was to find a way to reproduce in spite of being the only Ocampa on board. After a great deal of effort, she devised a procedure that would allow her and Neelix to have a child that would be genetically related to them both— though the Talaxian genes would need to be heavily altered in order to be compatible with Ocampa gestation and development. Dozens of medical simulation studies had shown the procedure to be a success, but of course, it couldn't be tested in reality until Kes entered her elogium. Evidently, her experiences in the future proved that it would work.

Her research also gave her insight into what triggered the elogium— and how it could be manipulated somewhat by telepathy. By the time my wedding day arrived, Kes and Neelix’s daughter was already twenty-one days into her thirty-day mitral period of development.

* * *

Just before dinner on December fifth, Harry and I put on our dress uniforms and took our places with Captain Janeway, Tom, and B'Elanna in the forward section of the Mess Hall. I fingered the Bajoran wedding mantle that I wore over my uniform, its deep scarlet fabric crossing at an ‘X’ in the middle of my chest where it was held by a large gold-colored brooch that featured the Eelo family symbol— the Bajoran sun within a square.

It was lucky that both Bajoran and Chinese cultures favored red and gold in their wedding color schemes. Even with the mixture of Bajoran faith symbols and Chinese double joy characters, the decor looked well-matched. The red and gold colors were balanced by arrangements of flowers that Lon had grown himself— white lilies interspersed with blue and yellow orchids, so the colors of our dress uniforms didn't look quite so out of place.

Once all of the guests were seated, the captain called Harry and me forward to the altar; it was set with a second mantle for Harry, an empty wooden drinking bowl, and a bottle of synthetic Bajoran springwine. She beamed at us as she began to speak. "Less than three years ago, the Federation and the Maquis stood on opposite sides of a conflict, their relationship broken and wrought with enmity. There were many who questioned the probability of finding peaceful solutions— not just between Federation and Maquis, but also on a larger galactic scale. Are Federation values at all realistic between worlds so different from each other? Yet, each and every member of this crew has proven that reconciliation is indeed possible in the face of greater threats.

"We are gathered here today to bear witness to the union of two officers who exemplify this potential. Three years ago, they did not know each other's names. Today, they stand in the arms of a family born out of hardship and loss, and they have come to find that walking together in love is far better than walking alone."

I turned towards the altar and picked up the mantle laid there, gathering the sleek fabric in my hands. Returning to Harry, I spoke my part. " _Ja'ahkaya per ja'ital, sholey'ah il Eelo Kendra'yan, melar's Bajor-B'hava'el_. My love and my light, I welcome you into Eelo of Kendra, house of the guiding star of Bajor. May we guide one another throughout our days, and together guide our people, just as the sun guides Bajor through hers. _El ekan'lo jed ekan'vo_."

With that, he bowed to me so I could place the mantle on him as he echoed my family motto in Standard— “If we might, then we must." Once it was positioned, he straightened and said, "May the Prophets guide us on our path together."

"May they walk with us always," I replied, bowing to him.

"Mister Paris," Janeway prodded, holding out her hand towards him to indicate that it was time for the ring. After he gave it to her, she looked at Harry. "Lieutenant, please repeat after me." Pausing every so often to allow him to echo her words, she led him through a traditional Western-Terran marriage vow. "I, Harrison, take thee, Talia, as my lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish above all others, in sickness and in health, until death parts us." Sweetly, and somewhat nervously, Harry slipped the band over my left ring finger, giving my hand a gentle squeeze when he was done.

Then, Janeway led me through the same process. "I, Talia, take thee, Harrison, as my lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish above all others, in sickness and in health, until death parts us."

With the rings exchanged, Janeway tipped the ornate bottle of springwine over the wooden bowl, filling it halfway with the sweetly fragrant liquid. Replacing the bottle on the table, she took the bowl and held it up in front of her face. "Let the Prophets bear witness, and all of us with them. Today, I stand before a marriage. In conflict, and in joy, take care of one another. From this day on, may you share in the blessings of the Prophets together from one table." She lowered the bowl slightly, and held it out to me. "I join Talia," she said as I took it and drank. "I join Harry," she repeated as he did the same. When Harry finished, he passed the bowl back to Janeway. " _Abrem_ , your paths are one. Lieutenant Commander Eelo Talia, Lieutenant Harrison S.L. Kim, with the power vested in me by Starfleet Command and the United Federation of Planets, I now pronounce you husband and wife." She grinned at us with pride. "You know what to do."

Just a half step forward brought us together as we wrapped each other up in our first wedded kiss, barely even aware of the applause filling up the room.

Whatever the reality was back home, and no matter what happened to us out here in the Delta Quadrant, my first allegiance was no longer to Starfleet, or the Maquis, or my mother, or some other externally imposed duty. My allegiance was finally— _finally_ — to my own self first, and to the crew that I had come to love so much. How could it be that the worst thing to happen to a starship crew would turn out to be my salvation?

Indeed, I was still quite far from the bones of my ancestors, and impossibly far from their sacred places. But perhaps I didn't actually need them as much as I tended to think. In fact, I was entirely certain that I could spend the rest of my life right there— wrapped up in my new husband's embrace, surrounded by our _Voyager_ family— and never run out of reasons to be happy.

Reason number one: Harry Kim's lips, which were doubtlessly the best thing I would ever touch in my entire life.

Reason number two: Tom Paris, who teased us for making out too long, then spent almost the entire reception chasing after B'Elanna.

Reason number three: Kes and Neelix, who announced that they had chosen a name for their daughter. They called her Alixia, in honor of Neelix's late sister.

Reason number four: Little Naomi Wildman, who was growing up so fast. She skillfully slipped away from her mother and lifted a bunch of lilies from a tabletop, then asked me to do a Terran bouquet toss. Not only did I say yes, I put her up on my shoulders so that she could toss them for me, eliciting a head-shaking smile from Sam.

Reason number five: Kathryn Janeway, who caught the flowers, and looked positively mortified as the rest of us teased her and Chakotay relentlessly for her luck.

The journey was long, and the path was daunting, but holding onto moments of joy like these made it seem less threatening. For the first time, I could honestly say that even if I were offered the chance to go back and change history so that we had never been stranded so far from everything familiar, I would refuse it. My choice wouldn't be based on some murky vision from a Prophet about our purpose here, but because I had finally learned a truth that would stand ready to carry me through every trial ahead of us.

Home wasn’t a place on the other side of the galaxy. Home was something that came from inside of me.


	27. The Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 3x26 Scorpion

Our reprieve was brief. A wedding, a holodeck honeymoon, then back to our strange life in the Delta Quadrant, like the brilliant, glistening display of color and light given off by a firework that only lasts a moment before burning out and fading back into the night. Soon enough, I was having strange dreams again, or being woken by some deep, innate prodding that refused to let me rest.

I grasped the mug of hot tea tightly in my hands as I sat alone on my couch, a full four hours before the morning staff meeting. For once, I had managed not to wake Harry when a dream ended and cast me out into the cold weather of reality. Perhaps the Prophet was finally starting to understand how much distress she was causing my husband with these traumatizing dreams and visions. It was certainly not what he had bargained for when he fell in love with me. He deserved so much better.

Honestly, though, I wasn't entirely sure why it was necessary to even wake me. ‘ _The hive is near_ ,’ she said, this time coming as Captain Janeway. But I already knew we were in Borg space; Chakotay had informed me the day before that our long-range probe had been captured by a cube, and that we were looking at a long trip through their territory. It irritated me to be losing sleep for such redundancy, but I was too awake to lay down.

"I am of Earth," I whispered to the Prophet defiantly. "I answer to science, not to Bajor's gods."

But the order Chakotay had given me writhed in my mind, even after I had tried to suffocate it for hours. ‘ _Anything your Prophet can tell us would be helpful, Talia_.’ Staring into endless light-years of Borg space was hardly an ideal time to be rejecting help from an extra-dimensional being. Usually, seeking the will of the Prophets entailed prayer or an orb experience, but I really hadn't felt much like praying as of late. I was essentially a living orb, wasn't I? Was it really necessary to go through these motions?

I sighed and set down the mug. It was a waste of a replicator ration, but not even Vulcan spice tea appealed to me in that moment. I knew that I had to at least try to speak with the Prophet.

What a frustrating thing spirituality was turning out to be. Higher beings sure had a penchant for making life unnecessarily complicated.

Almost as soon as my knees hit the pillow in front of my altar, I felt my _pagh_ being cocooned inside a warm, amniotic energy. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. In my mind's eye, I saw my mother kneel beside me. "Must you really take her form?" I asked, the grief yet clutching at my voice.

"The Eelo still doubts," she observed.

I looked to the altar, gazing at the faith symbol as the dim overhead light glinted off its surface. "It doesn't matter. Just tell me what you want to say."

Suddenly, I was in my grandmother's house on earth. I was sixteen, and my father's transport had been out of comm range for a full day too long. I'd been crying, and I couldn't understand how my grandmother had managed to remain so calm. "Have faith, child," she said, as my grandmother had that day. "Everything will be alright."

"It doesn't look too promising from here," I told her. "The Borg can take this ship in under thirty seconds if they find us. How could we possibly stand against them?"

"The hive will not consume you. They are concerned with a greater threat."

"The beast?" I asked, now standing in Captain Janeway's ready room as she sat behind her desk.

She nodded grimly. "They must be stopped at any cost. They threaten everything."

"Who are they?" I asked.

Images flashed before my eyes. I stared into the face of an alien creature I had never seen before, and I could feel its hatred. I watched a fleet of smaller alien ships link together and destroy an entire planet of Borg. I peered past a bulkhead inside a Borg cube and saw a pile of dismembered drones. I turned just in time to see one of the aliens burst through a corridor wall on the cube and look right at me.

Then, I was on a gym mat with my mother, about to begin sparring. She looked at me expectantly. " _Ah'no talin'serakem_ ," I said, pulling out my practice knife. A proud smile played across her lips just before the scene changed.

Captain Janeway stood from her chair and rounded her desk towards me. "You will approach your path and find the beast blocking it. You will want to turn away, but all will be lost if you flee. The Eelo is of Bajor; always keep Bajor in your sight. Enemies must become allies to drive away the beast, but do not follow the hive into the trap."

My brow furrowed. "So, you want us to walk into the middle of a conflict between the Borg and some beast. Why not just wait a while, let them destroy each other?"

In my quarters, Chakotay spun on his heel to face me after I finished zipping up his undershirt, his face flushed with anger from our argument. "The hive must not be scattered to the winds! All is at risk if they are. You must not let this happen. Do not turn away from Bajor."

“ _Remember who you are_ ,” whispered Marnah from somewhere unseen, like a gust of wind moving all around me.

As suddenly as it began, the vision was over. I collapsed onto all fours, utterly spent from the experience, and watched a glowing blue light leave my body and disappear into the bulkhead in front of me. My limbs trembled from the strain of supporting my body, but I focused all of my thoughts on holding the words and images together like a fistful of too many marbles. I began reciting out loud the sequence of the conversation, desperate to recall every detail that could prove to be important for our survival.

I didn't even realize how much the volume of my voice had grown until Harry rushed over to me from our bedroom, terrified by my odd behavior. A cold sweat had broken out all over my body, and I was becoming increasingly frustrated by my inability to hold onto every memory from the vision. He grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair and wrapped it around my shoulders as he offered to take me to sickbay, but I grabbed him by the scruff of his grey undershirt.

" _Ji'atanah_!" I shouted at him, my grip sure but my body still shaking. Too desperate to even think about which language I was speaking, I simply spoke and allowed the universal translator to sort it out. "The path! It is not safe. I saw so much death there, but we have to go. All will be lost if we flee. Enemies must become allies. Enemies… allies..."

My body gave out, and I collapsed into Harry's lap. "I don't want this," I sobbed weakly as he shushed and rocked me in his arms. "I don't want this."

* * *

"We don't know exactly how many vessels are out there," Captain Janeway told the senior staff at the morning briefing, "but their space includes thousands of solar systems. There's no going around it, but there may be a way through it. Commander?"

Chakotay stood and called up a map on the screen for us to see. "Before the probe was disabled, it picked up a narrow corridor of space devoid of Borg activity. We've nicknamed it the Northwest Passage. The passage is filled with intense gravimetric distortions likely caused by a string of quantum singularities."

"Better to ride the rapids than face the hive," Tom quipped.

I shuddered at his mention of ‘ _the hive_.’

"Exactly," Chakotay replied. "We're going to set a course for that corridor and go into full tactical alert. Tuvok, where do we stand with weapons?"

"I have reprogrammed the phaser banks to a rotating modulation," Tuvok reported, "but I suspect the Borg will adapt quickly."

"We can use every edge." Chakotay turned to Harry. "How are our systems, Lieutenant?"

"Operating at peak efficiency, sir," Harry answered. "I've configured the long range sensors to scan for transwarp signatures. An early warning system."

"Good work. Doctor, how are you coming on the medical front?"

"I've analyzed every square millimeter of the Borg corpse we recovered three months ago," Schmullis informed us. "I'm closer to understanding how their assimilation technology works, and I might be able to create some sort of medical defense."

"Redouble your efforts. This is your top priority." Finally, he turned to me. "Commander, what progress have your lab techs made?"

"Stellar cartography has compiled the data from the probe into several maps that have been made directly accessible to the conn," I told him. "They've managed to find a few safe places to hide if any singularities force us off course. Botany is reporting continued success in their efforts to increase the airponics harvest, so we will have a good supply of food for the trip."

He nodded his approval. "Any word from the Prophet?"

I exchanged looks with Harry and swallowed hard. "She woke me at 0300, but I don't entirely understand what she was trying to tell me. She said we were going to encounter a beast in the passage, something threatening enough that we'll consider turning around."

"The gravimetric distortions?" B'Elanna asked.

"I'm not sure," I replied, "but I'm inclined to say no. I can't remember it very clearly, but there was another alien, a non-humanoid species I've never seen before. Angry, dangerous. I got the sense that we'll need to be ready to fight them, that it's very important we do. The Prophet said, _'All will be lost if you flee.'_ "

Chakotay stiffened, recalling the vision from our mind-link experience in the ex-Borg cooperative. "The beast that scatters the hive," he muttered.

Janeway frowned. "Are you saying there might be a species out there that's threatening the Borg?"

I nodded. "I saw Borg corpses, ships destroyed."

"Talia, are you sure they're going to be a threat to us?" Harry asked me gently. "I mean, if they don't like the Borg, and we don't like the Borg—"

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Tom finished.

"No, this alien species is a bigger threat to the galaxy than the Borg are," I insisted. "Of that much, I'm sure."

"Anything else?" Chakotay asked.

I nodded slowly. "She said, ' _Enemies must become allies to drive away the beast, but do not follow the hive into the trap_.'"

Janeway exchanged a worried look with Chakotay. "What's clear to me right now is that we need to keep moving forward, and on that front, we have to act fast. The Borg have captured one of our probes. They know we're out here. We'll do everything in our power to avoid a direct confrontation, but if and when we do engage the Borg, or this other species, I'm confident that we'll be ready. I have faith in each and every one of you." Again, she glanced at Chakotay, who gave her a confident nod. She turned back to all of us. "Let's do it."

* * *

Two hours later, Dr. Schmullis called me to sickbay. Remains from the Borg corpse laid on the biobed in the surgical bay, but they were all but being ignored in light of a different problem.

Kes had received a vision.

Schmullis scanned Kes with a medical tricorder while I asked her to tell me what she saw.

"Dr. Schmullis and I were discussing how we might be able to slow down the assimilation process in the blood cells," she explained. "He was suggesting that we dissect the nanoprobes, but I just kept staring at the remains. They looked familiar somehow, like I'd seen them before somewhere else. Then, suddenly, I saw dismembered Borg remains, all together in a pile. I'm not sure where I was, but it was like I was standing right in front of them."

"They were on a Borg cube," I said.

Schmullis' hands froze in midair next to Kes' head. "Commander?"

"That sounds exactly like something I saw in my vision this morning. After the vision ended, I think the Prophet left me to go elsewhere on the ship. Kes, are you aware of any non-corporeal presence in your mind?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, searching her consciousness. After a few moments, she nodded. "Yes, she's with me. I can feel her in my mind."

Schmullis frowned as he recalibrated his tricorder. "I'm not detecting anything unusual other than slightly heightened telepathic functions. Even scanning specifically for psionic energy, I can't detect this Prophet-alien at all." He snapped the tricorder shut. "This is very frustrating."

"It's alright, Doctor," Kes reassured him. "I'm sure there's a reason, and that we'll understand in time. I need to go home and feed Alixia. Would you mind setting up the lab for the dissection? We can get started when I return."

He nodded. "Of course."

Kes turned to me. "Do you think Tuvok would be willing to meet me at my quarters? I know you said you've talked with him some about your visions from the Prophet, and I'd like to have his input if she's going to be tapping into my telepathic abilities."

"I think that's a great idea," I told her.

* * *

Counselor's Log, Supplemental

Tuvok and I have been meeting with Kes periodically throughout the day. She's seen several images of Borg planets, cubes, and drones being destroyed, as well as the alien that the Prophet refers to as ‘ _the beast_ ,’ but has received no direct communication as of yet. However, her telepathy continues to become increasingly stimulated.

Meanwhile, we have encountered our first real-world evidence of a conflict with the Borg. Earlier this afternoon, fifteen cubes passed us by with barely even a scan. Several hours later, they were all adrift in space. We've set an intercept course at low warp to investigate, so hopefully we'll get some answers when we reach their position tomorrow.

* * *

It was late by the time I walked through the doors to my quarters. Harry looked up from his seat on the couch as I dumped a stack of PADDs on the table by the door. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

Had he been waiting all this time, just to eat dinner with me?

I shook my head, unable to speak. He stiffened, ready to stand and come to me, but I crossed the room first. My whole body gave out when I reached him; I slumped in his lap, curled my knees to my chest, buried my face in his neck, and held him as tightly as my weary muscles could manage.

"Talia, what happened? What did you see?"

Again, I shook my head. "Nothing," I replied quickly. "It's not that. It's just— it's already coming true, what the Prophet said. And there's no way—" I looked up, meeting his eyes. What had I done, letting myself fall in love with someone I could so easily lose? I was such a fool. How could I possibly go on if this suicide mission cost Harry his life? Tears filled my eyes. "What we're walking into, we'll be lucky if any of us survive. But I can't— I can't—"

 _Goddamnit,_ I thought. _Why can't I ever just say how I feel?_

Harry grazed his fingers over my cheeks, wiping at the tears there. He rested his forehead against mine. "I'm scared, too."

"I can't lose you," I admitted in a broken whisper.

He didn't try to soothe my fears by making promises he couldn't keep. We both knew we were utterly powerless to avoid the risks or escape the consequences of our way of life out in uncharted space, and, truth be told, neither of us would trade it for safety even if we could. Yet, in that moment, it was painfully clear that the most terrifying risk either one of us had taken was to fall in love with someone who could be snatched away in an instant. It was so easy to forget about our own fragile mortality, but the truth was, all we ever really owned was one single moment in time— the moment we embodied as the present.

So, he offered me all that he could in that moment, pressing a sweet, but firm, kiss on my lips. It solved exactly nothing, and yet it was everything. I responded with desperation, needing him to know how much I loved him, and terrified that I might soon lose the chance. In each moment, I spoke the truth inside myself with my body because words failed me.

 _You're everything to me._  I enclosed his lips in mine. _I need you with me._ I drew his bottom lip between my teeth. _You're a part of me_. My tongue danced with his.

One after another, the moments came and went until the boundaries between them— and between us— were erased completely, and our whole existence became a blur of love and need. Somehow, even after we had become two bodies again, the boundaries between those moments did not reassert themselves for the rest of the night.

It dawned on me as we laid in bed, still tangled up in each other, that it was Christmas Eve— the long night that preceded the birth of a new and hopeful age. Maybe real life would follow the same course. Maybe the next day, when we reached those fifteen cubes, we would find the answers we needed to make it through Borg space.

But those were worries for the next day. That night, we were timeless. I traced my fingers around the edges of Harry's face and asked him to tell me about our future.

He smiled blissfully at my request. "I picture us having two kids— a girl and a boy— and both are just like you. We'll visit Earth and Bajor from time to time, and they'll love both worlds, but our home will always be among the stars. I'll be a captain, you'll be the most decorated counselor in Starfleet, and we'll see things no other Terrans have seen before. The kids can learn to fly shuttles from your lap, and I'll teach them how to build things out of spare parts. And they'll have the best extended family any kid ever had. Aunt Janeway will teach them how to make rules; Uncle Tom will teach them how to break rules; Uncle Chakotay will teach them to always follow their hearts; Aunt B'Elanna will teach them to never take any shit—"

On and on, we spoke of our future like a sacrament— anointing it with laughter and tears, affirming it with the liturgy of our kisses, drinking again from the cup of our physical union— until we finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next day, _Voyager_ found the remains of the Borg cubes, which at first glance appeared to be little more than a field of rubble. One of the farthest cubes was still partially in tact, and showed a few weak life signs; other than that, however, there was little left of the terrifying armada that had passed us by only the day before. Tuvok's tactical readings left no doubt that someone else had battled them and won. We could hardly believe our eyes.

"Scan the vicinity for other vessels," Chakotay ordered.

"There are none, sir," Harry replied.

The science station readings were telling me something odd. "Captain, bio-scanners are picking up some kind of organic substance on the hull of one of the cubes. I can't scan past the surface, though."

"Let's see it," Janeway ordered. She stood and walked forward as Harry activated the view screen, revealing a large brown bio-mass attached to the most in-tact cube. Our hails went unanswered, recalibrated sensors still failed to penetrate it, and we couldn't lock onto it with transporters or a tractor beam.

"Harry, are you reading an atmosphere inside the cube?" Janeway asked.

"Yes, Captain."

She motioned to her first officer. "Chakotay, I want you to take an away team inside. Try to get a short range scan of the bio-mass. We'll keep an open comlink and an active transporter lock. We'll pull you out of there at the first sign of trouble."

Chakotay gave a curt nod. "Aye, Captain. Tuvok, Talia, you're with me."

* * *

Tuvok and I followed Chakotay through the winding corridors of the cube. The two men brandished their phaser rifles, covering me as I actively scanned the area and dictated our direction. A few drones still milled about the ship, but they paid us no attention.

Briefly, Tuvok strayed from us by a few paces, pausing in front of a doorway. "Commanders," he called, beckoning us over to where he stood. He watched me carefully as I stepped past the last bulkhead blocking my view and faced the exact same pile of dismembered Borg bodies that I had seen in my vision.

I gasped, freezing where I stood just long enough to register the scene before me. Then, I swayed on my feet, my head suddenly swimming. Tuvok reached out to steady me.

"Talia?" Chakotay gasped, worried and confused.

"I believe she has just experienced the displaced consciousness of her past self, and of Kes, as they were being shown this event in their visions," Tuvok explained.

Chakotay's brow furrowed. "You mean her mind travelled forward in time to see this?"

"That is an imprecise explanation, Commander, but yes."

Slowly, I released my grip on Tuvok's arm as my dizziness cleared. After a few seconds more, I felt entirely back to myself.

Tuvok's eyes met mine. "Are you alright, Commander?"

"Yes," I affirmed with a nod, and he released his grip on my arms. I turned to Chakotay. "It's past now. Let's keep moving."

My friend's eyes searched mine for a moment, knowing better than anyone that I had a tendency to lie about my condition in tense situations like this. I covered his hand with mine and squeezed, letting him know that I was being fully honest this time. He accepted it with a slight nod, then turned again towards the direction of the bio-mass, which my scans indicated was very close by.

As we approached it, we found that it had melted a hole right through the hull of the cube. I stepped forward and scanned the threshold with my tricorder. "There's a chamber beyond this opening. Forty meters wide, high concentrations of antimatter particles. It looks like a warp propulsion system of some kind."

"It's a ship," Chakotay observed.

"I'm not detecting any lifeforms on board," I said. "Should we go inside?"

"Captain?" Chakotay asked over the open comlink.

"Do it," came the reply.

Chakotay gestured towards a device on the wall of a neighboring corridor. "Tuvok, that's a Borg distribution node. See if you can download their tactical database. It might contain a record of what happened here."

Tuvok nodded. "Aye, Commander."

Absently adjusting the strap of the phaser rifle on my back, I followed Chakotay into the bio-ship. The structure of the ship was like a skeleton, with a spine running down the center of the ceiling and ribs protruding out from it towards the floor. It was dark and foreboding, with almost no sources of lighting inside. I felt like I was walking into the belly of a monster.

That thought stopped me short, and I grabbed Chakotay's arm. He gave me a questioning look. "The beast," I said, reminding him of the Prophet's visions. "This ship belongs to the beast. It's here."

With his free hand, he grasped mine and squeezed it reassuringly. "We'll leave at the first sign of trouble, but we need as much information on this alien as we can get."

I nodded and released my grip, returning to my scans. The bio-ship was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Its conduits were filled with electrodynamic fluid, giving off a slight glow as they moved through the system. A binary matrix blinked and buzzed from the middle of a wall. It brought to mind a neurological diagram I had once seen of the humanoid brain. It appeared as if the ship was an unconscious life form all on its own. If I hadn't felt overwhelmingly like I wanted to jump right out of my skin and run away, I would have been utterly mesmerized by it.

"Talia!" Chakotay called, directing the beam of his wrist light towards a wound on an internal wall. "It looks like a phaser burn."

My tricorder readings concurred, and I nodded. "Yes, a Borg disrupter beam. The wall is regenerating itself." Once I finished my scan, I nodded at Chakotay, who stepped past me and into the corridor. He rounded a corner and stopped short at the sight of a dead drone covered with tendrils of infected flesh that slowly consumed the drone's healthy organic cells. I stooped down to scan the drone, collecting as much data as I could. "Captain," I said, speaking to the comm channel, "have Sam link her station to my tricorder. You need to see this data right away."

"Acknowledged, Commander," she replied. "What have you found?"

"It's incredible, Captain. Instead of being assimilated by the Borg cybernetic technology, the alien DNA is eating right through it like acid. This process could be the key to defeating both the Borg, and the beast."

"I apologize for the interruption," Tuvok interjected over the com, "but I believe the pilot of the bio-ship may be returning. We should return to _Voyager_."

"I can't get a lock on Talia and the commander while they're inside the bio-ship," Harry said through the com.

"Then I want you two to get back to Tuvok's position so we can beam you all out," Janeway ordered.

"Aye, Captain," Chakotay replied. I snapped my tricorder shut, stowed it in its holster, grabbed the phaser rifle from my back, and set off after Chakotay as we made our way back out of the bio-ship. When we reached Tuvok, he had a tricorder open in his hand. "I am unable to localize the alien's bio-signature, but it is within twenty meters of our position."

"Standby for transport," Janeway said over the comm.

"I can't get a lock on them," Harry reported, fear rising in his voice. "The alien is giving off some kind of bio-electric energy. It's interfering with the transporter."

"It is now within seven meters," Tuvok said. He stashed his tricorder. "I suggest we retreat."

"Agreed," Chakotay clipped. "Let's go." He took off down the corridor that ran along the hull of the cube, while Tuvok and I followed. The chatter on the bridge went silent, hopefully due to an audio mute rather than a com system failure; either way, the silence gave us an extra cover, so we slowed our pace in order to quiet our steps on the metal grate underneath our feet.

I shouldered my rifle and pulled out my tricorder, alerts muted, as we paused behind a bulkhead to get our bearings. I held up five fingers on my free hand to signal that the alien was five meters away, but I struggled to get a fix on its location. Chakotay frowned, likely confused at how it was somehow closer to us even though we had been moving away from it and its ship. I counted down with my fingers as the alien closed on us, and my tricorder finally localized its position. My eyes widened and I pointed two fingers towards the wall opposite us.

We didn't even have time to react when the bulkhead exploded in front of us, depositing a tall, muscular, greenish-brown, non-humanoid alien. It tossed the body of a drone away from itself like a doll, then turned and looked right at us. Again, I swayed on my feet as I looked into its face, glaring menacingly at me just as it had in my vision. Chakotay grabbed me by the arm and tucked me into his chest as he quickly backed away from the creature.

The alien lunged threateningly at Tuvok, ignoring his attempts at diplomacy. Tuvok defensively fired his phaser rifle at the alien, who was merely angered by the burn. It swiped at him violently, throwing him to the floor in front of us. Just as he landed, his face twisted with agony, I felt the tingling of the transporter beam begin to take hold of my body from the inside, setting my bones on fire as it painfully ripped me apart.

A moment later, we materialized on one of Voyager's transporter pads, where Chakotay and I promptly collapsed.


	28. The Hive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Dr. Schmullis develops an experimental treatment for the injury Tuvok suffered at the claws of Species 8472, Captain Janeway makes a risky decision that could save them all— or get them assimilated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 3x26 Scorpion pt. 1

A deep seed of rage began to take root in my heart as I leaned against the bulkhead outside of the surgical bay, watching the alien infection slowly spread out from the scratches the creature had left on Tuvok's chest. The Prophet could have warned us, but she had stayed silent. She could have come to the cube and possessed the alien, or helped us get away somehow, but she had done nothing.

The rage only grew when Captain Janeway arrived.

"Report, Doctor," she snapped as she approached, not entirely covering the tremor in her voice.

"The alien cells have begun infusing every system in Lt. Commander Tuvok's body," Schmullis grimly informed her, "consuming his own cells from the inside out. His Vulcan physiology is slowing the spread of the infection some, but it's still progressing at an alarming rate, and every treatment I've tried has been quickly neutralized. These alien cells are the most densely coded life form I've ever seen."

"Is there anything you can do for him?"

"As you know, I've been analyzing the nanoprobes. They're efficient little assimilators, but they're no match for the alien cells. I managed to access the re-coding mechanism, and I reprogrammed it to emit the same electrochemical signatures as the alien cells. That way, the probe can do its work without being detected. I'd like to unleash an army of modified nanoprobes into his bloodstream, but I've only created a few prototypes. I'll need several days to modify enough nanoprobes to cure Mister Tuvok."

"Does he have several days?"

"I wish I knew," Schmullis said somberly before he walked away.

Janeway stood outside of the force field around the surgical bay for several seconds, silently staring at her dearest friend. A few seconds later, her hand settled on my shoulder.

"Captain," I murmured, "I'm sorry I brought that wretched entity on board with me."

"Oh? Why do you say that?" she asked.

"She lead us into this. If it hadn't been for those ridiculous visions—"

"Then I would have ordered Tom to charge into Borg space with no knowledge whatsoever of these aliens or their conflict with the Borg, and we might all be dead." I looked at her, and her eyes filled with compassion. "Talia. I'm not exactly happy with the Prophet myself. She had the power to prevent this, and she didn't. But, right now, the best thing we can do is focus on what's ahead of us. I'm not giving up yet." She gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning to leave.

* * *

The next morning, we arrived at the Northwest Passage, but our analysis of the cube's tactical data the previous afternoon had already revealed to us what we could expect to find there.

"Captain," Harry reported, "I'm reading one hundred and thirty three bio-ships, and there are more coming from a quantum singularity."

Chakotay ordered him to activate the view screen. A large rift had opened in space, and swarms of bio-ships flowed through it into the passage. On the other side of the rift, their realm rippled and glowed like an ocean reflecting sunlight.

"Kes?" Janeway asked, having brought our Ocampan doctor to the bridge as a communicator and consultant. The day of our first encounter with the alien, a member of the species— whom the Borg had designated as 8472— had briefly made telepathic contact with her before _Voyager_ fled the debris field.

"I can hear them," Kes confirmed. "I feel malevolence, a cold hatred. They say, ' _The weak will perish_.'" She paused momentarily, listening. "It's an invasion, Captain. They intend to destroy everything."

"Tom, reverse course, maximum warp," Janeway quickly ordered. "Take us five light years out and hold position."

* * *

"Talia, remind me what it was that the Prophet told you in your last vision," Janeway asked me as she settled onto the couch in her ready room. Once our new course was set, she had called Chakotay, Kes, and me in with her to discuss our situation.

I leaned back against the railing across from where she sat, closing my eyes to help me remember that night. "’ _You will approach your path and find a beast blocking it._ ’”

"The invading forces of Species 8472," Chakotay stated.

I continued. "’ _You will want to turn away, but all will be lost if you flee. Always keep Bajor in your sight_.’"

"Keep moving forward," Kes translated. "Don't give up on going home."

I opened my eyes and saw Chakotay shaking his head. "I'm not sure I like that," he said. "Flying into that corridor would mean certain death."

"Agreed," declared Janeway. "But I'm not ready to walk onto that bridge and tell the crew we're quitting. What else did the Prophet tell you, Talia?"

" _’Enemies must become allies to drive away the beast_ ,’" I relayed.

She sighed wearily, rubbing her face with her hands. "That's the part I'm less clear on. Enemies become allies. Who is that referring to?"

I swallowed hard and glanced at Kes, who was seated on the couch next to Janeway. I had an idea of who the Prophet was talking about, but I was afraid to say it out loud, almost as if verbalizing it would make it irrevocably so.

Kes intuited my look and spoke for me. "I think it means we're supposed to work with the Borg to defend against 8472."

Chakotay's eyes widened. "An alliance with the Borg?"

A new and determined hope dawned Captain Janeway's face as she swished the idea around in her head like a mouthful of dry wine. "If a god can't help us," she muttered, almost to herself, "then we make a deal with the devil."

"Kathryn," Chakotay said, striding towards her, "are you seriously considering this?"

"What other choice do we have, Chakotay?" she asked.

"We retreat to safe space, and stay alive!"

"You mean, give up?"

"We'd be turning around, but we wouldn't be giving up. We may find another way home."

"What about the prophecy?" Kes asked. "She said, _'All will be lost if you flee_.'"

"To hell with the prophecy!" Chakotay nearly shouted. Janeway gaped at him, surprised that his practical sense of survival was so strongly overpowering his deep spiritual bent. Noting her shock, he knelt before her and gently took her hands. "There's a story I heard as a child— a parable— and I never forgot it.

”A scorpion was walking along the bank of a river, wondering how to get to the other side. Suddenly he saw a fox. He asked the fox to take him on his back across the river.

“The fox said, 'No, if I do that, you'll sting me and I'll drown.'

“The scorpion assured him, 'If I did that, we'd both drown.'

“The fox thought about it and finally agreed. So the scorpion climbed up on his back, and the fox began to swim. But halfway across the river, the scorpion stung him. As the poison filled his veins, the fox turned to the scorpion and said, 'Why did you do that? Now you'll drown too.'

“'I couldn't help it,' said the scorpion. 'It's my nature.'"

Janeway squeezed Chakotay’s hands. "I understand the risks. I'm not suggesting that we can change the nature of the hive. But, to our knowledge, the Borg have never been threatened like this before. We can use that. Doctor Schmullis' nanoprobe research and our data from the bio-ship are the key to defeating 8472. They need that information, and we can hold that over them until we are safely through their space. We just need the courage to see this through."

"If what I've learned from the aliens is true," Kes interjected, "the Borg are losing this war."

"If we run," Janeway continued, "and we let 8472 destroy the Borg, we could find ourselves right back in the line of fire, and we'll have missed the opportunity that exists right now."

"But, we'd be giving an advantage to a race guilty of murdering billions!" Chakotay insisted, his tone rising again with fervent passion. "We'd be helping the Borg assimilate yet another species, just to get ourselves back home. It's wrong!"

She sighed and hung her head. "I know. And, it would be a violation of the Prime Directive. But, Chakotay, something in my gut tells me this is right."

"We wouldn't be helping the Borg to assimilate 8472," Kes asserted. "The medical simulations that Dr. Schmullis and I have run show that the modified nanoprobes won't be able to fully assimilate the alien cells before they're detected and destroyed; they work because they leave the alien cells too weak to survive the immune response, so the cells and the nanoprobes just destroy each other."

"That may be true," Chakotay argued, "but we'd still be interfering in an alien conflict that has nothing to do with us."

"But, it does involve us," I insisted.

Janeway looked at me. "What makes you say that?"

"Every warning the Prophet has given me implies that the Borg will win this conflict eventually," I explained, "but not before they are scattered even further across the galaxy. When they rebuild, they will be in an even better position to assimilate new sectors that have not previously been worth their while to attack.

“We already know they want Earth; they've made at least two small incursions into Federation space since the twenty-first century, if not more, and they know the Federation is sheltering El-Aurian refugees from them. If it's true that the Federation has been at war with the Dominion during the last three years, Starfleet may not have the resources to defend themselves against another attack."

"No offense, Talia," Chakotay answered pointedly, "but that's all just conjecture based on a few isolated incidents, mixed with the metaphorical visions given to you by a non-corporeal alien that we know almost nothing about. If that's all the evidence we have to justify our actions when we write our reports about this mission, we'll all be tossed in front of a review board the moment we get back to Starfleet."

I nodded. "You're right, Tay. So, let's set aside those predictions and consider what we know. Species 8472 has made it quite clear that they plan to make war on the entire galaxy; they have communicated this directly to a member of our crew. They have also attacked a crewman with potentially deadly force, so we have no reason to doubt the sincerity of their threats. This species isn't just a danger to the Borg, or to Voyager; they're a danger to the Federation, and frankly, to the rest of the galaxy. Therefore, it is our duty as Starfleet officers to intervene. Is it not?"

Chakotay pursed his lips. He had no response to my argument, yet he disliked the idea of moving forward.

I knew that he still had a very bitter taste in his mouth from our experience with the ex-Borg cooperative in the Nekrit Expanse. Yet, there was something more to his objections than bitterness— something I wouldn't have noticed had I not been standing a few steps away from where he knelt before his beloved, clinging to her hand.

Janeway and Chakotay had both been careful to keep their personal relationship separated from their duty. Watching them on the bridge or in the briefing room, one would never know they had been romantically involved during the past year.

Yet, for the first time I could recall, my old friend was failing to maintain his professionalism in the face of this new threat. The monsters had gone to war against each other, the gods had done nothing but throw us in the middle, and Chakotay was terrified of losing her in the fight. He had allowed this woman to burrow deep into his soul, which was something he couldn't help but keep tucked precariously under the sleeve of his uniform.

It was his greatest strength, and his deepest weakness.

Meanwhile, Janeway cast her hardened gaze out the window behind her, more weighted on the side of her duty to her crew and to Federation principles than she ever allowed herself to be by her personal desires. Thank God she was, for we would need our captain's strength to survive. Indeed, though she maintained a tight grip on her beloved with one hand, her other hand supported the defiant chin and determined mind of _Voyager's_ indomitable leader.

"Kathryn," Chakotay prodded gently, his worried gaze fixed on her, "you haven't slept in two days. Get some rest. Clear your head. We can make a decision tomorrow."

"I've already made my decision," she responded firmly, clearly overruling her first officer's input. With one last survey of the stars beyond her window, she turned again to face him. "But I do agree, Chakotay; right now, what I need— what we all need— is sleep."

* * *

Just over two days later, _Voyager_ entered the outskirts of a Borg star system. As we stared out at the assimilated planet in front of us, and the three huge cubes that closed on our position, we hoped for the best even as we braced for the worst. We had entered an all-or-nothing game, and there was no going back anymore.

Ten thousand emotionless voices spoke as one when they sent their opening hail. "We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."


	29. Collective Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janeway negotiates an uneasy alliance with the Borg in order to get through their space and stop 8472's invasion of the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episode: VOY 4x1 Scorpion pt. 2

The bridge staff waited nervously for any sign of how the negotiations were going. It had only been about a minute since the Borg transported Captain Janeway to the cube nearest us, but it seemed like an eternity. Their tractor beam still hummed against our shields as it tethered our ship to theirs, keeping us all in a precarious state of limbo.

Seconds later, my console beeped in warning. "Commander, th—" Before I could get the words out, an explosion on the cube rattled _Voyager_. Flames flashed from the top of the cube briefly, then were snuffed out as they escaped into space. A small bio-ship zoomed past us on its way towards the Borg planet.

Chakotay cursed and jumped out of his chair. "Where the hell did that ship come from?"

"A quantum singularity just opened about twenty thousand kilometers ahead," I answered.

"The cube's shields are weakening," Harry reported. "We may be able to break free of the tractor beam, but I can't get a lock on the captain yet."

"I've got nine more bio-ships coming out of the singularity," I called, "headed straight for the planet."

"Confirmed," Mike Ayala announced from tactical. "They're charging weapons." With a tone of shock, he added, "Sir, they're targeting the Borg planet."

Chakotay ordered Harry to switch to aft imagers. We watched in horror as the bio-ships linked their weapons to the central ship, funneling their energy into one large beam that destabilized the planet at its core. _Voyager_ jolted when the cube jumped to warp, fleeing the doomed world just before it exploded.

"The bio-ships are not pursuing, sir," Mike reported.

"Commander," Harry said, "the cube is hailing us."

The bridge fell silent as several emotions flashed across Chakotay's face. He quickly schooled his features into neutrality, then ordered Harry to open a channel.

Captain Janeway appeared on the view screen, her countenance already full of strain. "Commander, I've reached an agreement with the collective. We're going to help them design a weapon against Species 8472 and, in exchange, they've granted us safe passage through their space. We'll work on the weapon en route. Once we're across their territory, we'll give them the nanoprobes. I'll be working here, on the cube, and I want you to have Lieutenant Ayala and Crewman Ghemor transport to my location to assist me."

Chakotay stiffened. "Kathryn, you can't be serious."

"I'm quite serious, Chakotay," she confirmed. "Miss Ghemor has extensive knowledge on weapons technology, as well as innovative engineering ideas. I need her expertise. I also want Lt. Commander Eelo to transport here with them. She'll be the liaison between our two ships."

The muscles in his jaw bulged with tension, but there was no point in fighting her. "Aye, Captain," he said through gritted teeth.

* * *

"Where are they taking us?" Iliana asked as four drones escorted us through the corridors of the cube.

"Grid nine-two of sub junction twelve— our very own workspace," Janeway replied. "It's near the center of the cube."

"Captain," I said, mustering up a slight smile, "I have some good news. Just before I left, Schmullis and Kes administered the first dose of Tuvok's treatment."

Her head swiveled towards me, her eyes lit with a spark of hope I hadn't seen in days. "And?"

"It worked just like the simulations. He'll be healthy again by the end of the day."

She gave a great sigh of relief, allowing herself a small but genuine smile. "That is good news, Commander. Thank you."

"That's not all," I continued, handing her a PADD that I had brought with me. "Sam Wildman and I analyzed the tricorder data I collected from the bio-ship, and we compared it to Kes' analysis of the alien tissue from Tuvok's chest wounds. The cellular structures are almost identical."

She skimmed over my report. "They're made of the same organic material.”

"Then their ships will be just as vulnerable to the modified nanoprobes as they are," Iliana concluded.

Janeway's demeanor shifted; she squared her shoulders and set her features with stony confidence. For her, any last vestiges of insecurity in the mission fell away. This _would_ work. "What we have is no longer just a defensive strategy against the aliens; now, it is a way to stand against both their soldiers and their fleets. That will be our weapon."

The drones led us to a moderately-sized laboratory, then turned to face us. "You have entered grid nine-two of sub junction twelve," they said in unison.

Janeway lifted her chin defiantly as she glared at the drones. Her distaste for the situation was clear. Still, she acknowledged the their cooperation and turned to examine the room.

"Captain," Mike offered, "I think we should consider a large-scale delivery system for the modified nanoprobes."

"Yes," Iliana agreed. "A charge that would infect their ships and destroy them at the microscopic level. We'd never even have to face the aliens themselves, though we should still be ready with some kind of disruptor weapon in case of man-to-man combat."

Janeway nodded. "Agreed. What if we encased the nanoprobes inside one of—"

Suddenly, the drones approached us from behind, grasping us by the shoulders and forcing us to our knees.

"What the hell is going on?" Iliana barked.

"A neural transceiver is required for maximum communication," the drones answered. "The link is temporary. You will not be damaged."

"That wasn't the agreement," Janeway reminded them. "We prefer to communicate verbally."

"Your primitive communication is inefficient," they replied, attaching transceivers to our necks. "We will work as one mind."

"Unacceptable," I said, adopting their parlance. "It is in your own interests to leave our individuality intact."

"Elaborate," they demanded.

"Species 8472 is unique, and it will require a unique course of action to defeat them. If you assimilate our minds into the collective consciousness, we will lose our ability to innovate new technologies and combat strategies, and the war will be lost."

A tense silence lingered momentarily as the collective considered the argument. The drones released us and moved away. "We will assign a representative for optimal verbal communication."

A door to an adjacent corridor opened, revealing a tall, female drone regenerating inside of an alcove. The alcove released her into wakefulness, and she stepped across the threshold towards us with absolute confidence. "I speak for the Borg," she said coldly.

* * *

"How are things going on the cube?" Chakotay inquired as he and I sat down together in Janeway's ready room.

"They're being very pushy," I informed him, "as is their way. But, the captain is immovable."

He quirked his lips ever-so-slightly. "As is her way."

I rested my hand on his. "She'll get us through this, Tay."

He nodded, silently processing my words. After a few seconds, a concerned look crossed his face as he became aware of the small, reoccurring spasms in my hand.

I drew away from him and gave a rueful smile. "I'm getting too old to handle all the caffeine I drink," I joked.

At that, he lightened up a little, shaking his head at my ludicrous excuse. "Are you really going to complain to me about your age, young woman? Even if you were anywhere near as old as I am, you'd still outlive me by fifty years."

"Oh, come now, Chakotay," I teased. "You still put up a decent fight on the hoverball court. Plus, ever since you started coloring those grays, you don't look a day over forty-four."

He chuckled, letting our light-hearted banter hang in the air for a few peaceful moments before getting back to business. "You said something about a Borg representative?"

"Yes. Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix 01. Initially, they wanted to link us into the hive mind with neural transceivers so we could work together more efficiently, but we convinced them that it was in their best interests for us to retain our individuality." I saw him shudder slightly at the memory of being in a collective consciousness. I continued. "As a compromise, they have assigned Seven of Nine to be their spokesperson."

"What can you tell me about her?"

"Seven of Nine is eloquent, but direct. She was Terran before she was assimilated, but that was eighteen years ago; no part of her believes she is anything now but Borg."

His eyes widened with shock. "Eighteen years?"

"That's what she told the captain."

"But, that's nine years before the Borg raids near the Romulan Neutral Zone. How is that possible?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. She cut off the conversation before Captain Janeway could get any further. But, it seems the collective has managed to solve the problem they had when they assimilated Captain Picard. Somehow, Seven of Nine can think both individually and collectively without having any conflict between the two. Perhaps she became a true believer in Borg philosophy, and submits herself to the collective willingly."

He shook his head and let out a slow breath. "You've seen everything in the database about the Borg, including the classified files?"

I nodded. "After you found that corpse on Sakara, Captain Janeway gave me clearance, and I've been studying them ever since. Actually, I first read several of the pre-contact reports in grad school, though that was before Starfleet officially confirmed that the Neutral Zone raids and the Arctic Circle incident were the same species that decimated El-Aurian."

"You read those in grad school?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, in one of my deep space track courses. Actually, the _Enterprise_ made first contact with the Borg that very semester, thanks to Q. The department had to rewrite their whole unit on cybernetically-augmented species because of it."

"I didn't think Starfleet briefed anyone about the Borg until Picard started getting pushy about it."

"There were a few graduate programs that offered courses in unique deep space encounters. Sociology, pre-med, and tactical ops all had one. They were highly selective in who they enrolled in those classes; we all had to pass certain clearance assessments and sign non-disclosure agreements. But, deep space counselors are regularly on the front lines of developing new diplomatic relationships, and it's difficult to analyze the behavior of a species when you have no basis for comparison. Starfleet wanted us to be prepared before sending us out on the frontier."

"Is there anything I should know about the behavior of the Borg on this cube?"

"I didn't notice anything unexpected, given the unique circumstances," I said. "They don't understand the value of creative thinking, they are frustrated that people so clearly inferior to them have found a solution where they themselves have failed, and they don't trust us. It's a tense relationship. But, we always knew it would be. So far, they seem to be holding up their end of the agreement."

"What do you think they'll do if we're attacked by Species 8472?" Chakotay inquired with concern. "Would they leave us behind to save themselves?"

I quirked an eyebrow and lifted my chin. "Not while we have the nanoprobes they need."

* * *

Back on the cube, I relayed an update to Captain Janeway while Seven of Nine listened. I informed her first of Tuvok's successful recovery, which brought a smile to her lips that briefly lightened the darkness in her eyes. Then, I reported on our progress. "I've reassigned two science labs to the tasks of replicating and prepping nanoprobes; all the doctor has to handle is the modifications. I estimate we can complete several hundred billion per day."

"Good work, Commander," she said approvingly.

"Your process is inefficient," criticized the drone. "A single photonic lifeform alone cannot modify a sufficient number of nanoprobes to defend against billions of bio-ships. You must assign more individuals to the task."

"Actually," I replied, fixing my eyes on the drone, "Commander Chakotay and I have assigned both of the ship's doctors to perform the modifications."

"Insufficient. You will assign more."

"We will do as we see fit," Janeway responded defiantly.

Seven of Nine's chin jutted out slightly as she eyed Janeway with disdain. "You delay your task because you think it will save you. If species 8472 attacks, how do you propose to resist without an effective weapon?"

"We're not across your space yet," Janeway reminded her. "Our ability to instantly destroy the research is our only guarantee that you won't assimilate us. The more widely disseminated that research is, the harder it will be to destroy. I won't risk it."

"Are you willing to risk a confrontation with us?" the drone threatened. "If we transport five hundred drones onto your vessel, do you believe you could offer sufficient resistance?"

"Don't get ambitious," I warned her. "The medical storage room is guarded and rigged. Dr. Schmullis has full control over his program. Dr. Kes is inhabited by a non-corporeal, extra-dimensional entity who can shield Kes' mind from any kind of intrusion— including a Borg neuroelectric field. If you assimilate us, you will lose everything." I tilted my head to the side tauntingly. "Are you willing to risk that?"

Seven of Nine glared coldly at us for several seconds as she listened to the collective in her mind. "That won't be necessary." She turned towards Mike and Iliana, who were pretending not to eavesdrop as they tweaked the final design for the high-yield torpedoes. "We must construct a launching system to accommodate this design." Pivoting back towards us, she added, "On both ships."

All eyes went to Janeway, wondering if she would accept this compromise. The agreement had been that the weapon would be built on the cube, and that _Voyager_ would turn over the nanoprobes after we reached the other side of Borg territory; we never intended to enter the war ourselves. However, 8472 was not ignorant of our presence. They knew Kes was on _Voyager_ , which was the only non-Borg ship in the region. They also knew that she was blocking them out telepathically. Even though the block meant they couldn't pinpoint our location, we all knew that it was only a matter of time until they got lucky and found us anyway.

Finally, Janeway nodded. "Alright," she agreed.

Seven of Nine lowered her chin approvingly. "We will transport a contingent of drones to your vessel to make the necessary modifications."

Janeway's eyes narrowed. "You may transport four drones to assist my crew in the modifications, just as we did."

"Insufficient," the drone asserted. "We must make the modifications as quickly as possible. The task requires at least fifty drones to complete efficiently."

"Irrelevant," Janeway replied. "We will not be invaded. If you transport more than four drones onto my ship, I will have the research and the nanoprobes destroyed."

Seven of Nine stepped directly in front of Janeway, towering over the captain by several inches. "If you destroy the nanoprobes, you will be assimilated."

Janeway stepped even closer still, undeterred. "Then we will all die together."

The two adversaries stood nose to nose for several seconds as the collective spoke their will in the mind of their avatar. Finally, stepping back, the drone amended her terms. "Once we complete a design for the launching system, we will transport ten drones to _Voyager's_ outer hull to assist with the installation of our technology on your vessel. I will accompany you aboard your vessel to coordinate the drones in their tasks. You will comply."

Janeway raised her chin and pursed her lips, giving the drone a look that could have made a Klingon warrior feel dwarfed by the trim woman. Then, just once, she nodded.

With that settled, I asserted some terms of my own. "We can begin first thing in the morning, but right now, we require sleep."

I had intentionally phrased my statement as a demand rather than a suggestion, knowing that I needed to be just as bull-headed as the two women before me. I was prepared to pull command relief protocol if Janeway tried to argue, but I had gambled that she wouldn't. She knew as well as I did that it was better to show the Borg a strong and unified front. Still, I couldn't help but wonder how she might make me pay for my little act of insubordination. Better to apologize later, I supposed.

Janeway's jaw muscles flinched. She hated putting off work for such trivial things as eating and sleeping, and the idea of leaving the Borg to their own devices all night was unnerving. Yet, she did not argue. When she lifted an eyebrow at Seven of Nine, wordlessly demanding the collective's reply, I knew my gamble had paid off.

"Very well," the drone said. "You may return to your vessel."


	30. Scorpion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Source Episodes: VOY 4x1 Scorpion pt. 2, 4x2 The Gift

It took four days for the launching system to be designed, built, and installed on _Voyager_. Seven of Nine groused the entire time, deeming the progress to be too slow, but Captain Janeway remained steadfast. Not one singularity was detected as we worked, but it would be another two weeks before we exited Borg territory.

When the work was completed, Seven of Nine demanded that we begin testing prototypes of our new weapons, to which Janeway cautiously agreed. As our team was gathered in the briefing room, negotiating with the drone over the details of how to proceed, an explosion rocked _Voyager_. Before Janeway's hand had even reached her combadge, Seven of Nine already had an explanation. "The cube is being attacked by species 8472."

Chakotay commed from the bridge. A small fleet of bio-ships had emerged from a inside of a nebula just before we passed by. They had opened fire on the cube, and its systems were failing.

We rushed from the briefing room just in time to see the cube drop behind _Voyager_ as the bio-ships came about for another attack. With one final volley, the cube was destroyed.

"Three bio-ships are in pursuit," Tuvok said over the shrill sound of the red alert klaxon. "They will be within weapons range in thirty seconds."

I jumped on the com with Kes, who confirmed that she could hear their telepathic communications. She said the aliens were speaking directly to her. "They say that our galaxy has contaminated their realm, and that it is a threat to their genetic integrity."

Janeway made one final threat. "Tell them we have a weapon that can destroy them at the cellular level. If they don't stop their attacks on our galaxy, we'll be forced to use it."

There was a tense silence over the com as Kes relayed the message. Finally, she gave their cryptic reply. "They say our galaxy will be purged."

Taking over her command seat, Janeway stared resolutely ahead. "Battle stations. Full power to shields. Mister Tuvok, bring the launchers online and ready the bio-molecular weapons."

I directed Iliana to take the engineering station, then crossed the bridge to take my own post at science.

"Bio-molecular warheads are charged and ready, Captain," Tuvok declared.

Her eyes narrowed at the screen as she watched the bio-ships closing into weapons range. "Fire.”

Tuvok's hands flew over the controls at tactical, targeting each of the three ships with one modified torpedo and letting the missiles fly. All three hit their targets dead-on, but for one heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. Then, just as we all braced for our inevitable destruction, the ships necrotized and dissolved. Three small anti-matter explosions followed, and then there was nothing.

We all let out a breath.

"The nanoprobes were successful," Tuvok reported, "if not prompt. All three bio-ships have been destroyed."

My console beeped. "There's a singularity opening, twenty thousand kilometers to stern." I felt my stomach sink as the biosensors determined what was on the other side of that portal. "Captain, I'm reading one hundred and fifty bio-ships coming through, heading right for us."

Iliana swore.

"Evasive maneuvers, Mister Paris," Janeway ordered, unphased. "Mister Tuvok, how many high yield warheads do we have prepared?"

"Three, Captain."

Seven of Nine glared at Captain Janeway. "We require at least ten to neutralize that many vessels. You must allow us to assimilate your data before we are destroyed. It is the only way this galaxy will survive."

Just then, the turbolift opened and deposited Kes onto the bridge. I feared that I was hallucinating when I laid eyes on her, but a cursory look around at the other officers told me that they were seeing the same thing; Kes was faintly glowing. "The _Voyager_ must not fall into the trap."

Janeway's eyes filled with resolve. "No. We make our final stand here."

A hush fell over the bridge, as if we had all walked into a cathedral. Even to the non-religious, moments like these were sacred. After the next few minutes, _Voyager_ would either emerge victoriously from its greatest challenge yet, or it wouldn't emerge at all.

"Ready torpedoes, Mister Tuvok," Janeway said, a calm sort of finality infusing her deep voice. "As soon as the lead ships come into weapons range, I want you to pick off as many as you can."

"Aye, Captain," he replied.

Between Tom's careful maneuvering and Tuvok's impeccable instincts, the first two waves of bio-ships were destroyed before they even managed to fire a shot at us. The explosions from their warp reactors were doing half of the work, taking out neighboring bio-ships and forcing the remaining waves to fall back. Though I knew that the worst was yet to come, I couldn't help but feel my _pagh_ being buoyed towards the surface, reaching for the oxygen that waited beyond the crush.

In our brief respite, Janeway ordered Tuvok to prepare the high-yield torpedoes. We all held our breath for several tense seconds as the next wave of bio-ships closed in from behind.

"Ten seconds to weapons range," Harry announced.

"They're charging weapons," Tuvok stated.

"Not yet—" Iliana uttered unintentionally as she monitored her readings.

Janeway glared unflinchingly at the view screen. Unlike the rest of us, she wasn't watching her instruments or relying on the computer's calculations of distance and speed. Her eyes were on the battle itself, and she would be giving her order to fire only when her instincts told her to.

“Fire.”

A green-hued warhead projected away from _Voyager._  It flew deep into the center of the nearest wave of ships before exploding in a massive burst of light, blowing away everything in its wake. From behind the wave of bio-ships still necrotizing in space, two flanks raced out to either side, easily avoiding the destruction in front of them.

"Fire.”

The final two high-yield warheads were thrown into either flank, wrecking mayhem among the bio-ships.

Even though our strategy had worked perfectly, we still had half of the alien fleet closing fast, and no more bio-weapons to use against them. "Prepare another high-yield torpedo," Janeway barked.

"Captain," Tuvok reminded her, "we armed only three prototypes."

"But, we have the casings for more," Iliana said, looking at the captain with— was that admiration? "If they think we can destroy them, they might back off."

"Do it!" Janeway demanded. "Kes, I want you to tell them that every Borg vessel will have these weapons armed within the hour. Tell them to withdraw from our galaxy immediately, or we will destroy them."

For a brief moment, we wondered if they would call our bluff. I glanced back at Harry. He met my eyes and mouthed, _I love you._

 _I love you, too,_ I mouthed back.

Then, the bio-ships behind us changed course. Opening a portal to their own realm, they disappeared into fluidic space.

Seven of Nine tilted her head to the side. "All remaining bio-ships in the Delta Quadrant are returning to their realm. The Borg have prevailed."

Janeway flashed her an irritated look. "With a little help from us. Now it's time you fulfilled your end of the agreement. Tell the collective we expect safe passage from here on out. We'll give you a shuttlecraft; you can head for the nearest Borg ship."

Another pause. “Unacceptable. This alliance is terminated. Your ship and its crew will adapt to service us."

Striding to the con, Seven of Nine shoved Tom aside and plunged her assimilation tubules into the console. Tom reached under the console for the phaser stored there and shot her, but her personal force field protected her.

"She's tapping into helm control," Iliana announced. "She's trying to access our coordinates."

"Shut her out," Janeway ordered.

"I'm trying." Iliana worked furiously from her station.

From the look on her face, I could tell that she was developing an idea, but she needed more time. I started dumping every last teraquad of data that I had into the con, hoping to overwhelm the drone with a chaos of information. Maybe it would slow her down just enough to give Iliana the edge.

Chakotay, however, already had a plan. He turned to Kes and said, "Scorpion."

With a slight nod, Kes' naturally blue-green eyes flashed electric blue as she made her way to the con. An orb of energy began to form around her petite body.

She was absolutely fearsome.

"Seven of Nine," she said, her voice booming, "tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix 01. You have been taken from your true family, and altered from your true nature. You believe that you are one with the collective, but you do not know how you have been manipulated by the queen you serve so closely."

"We are Borg,” the drone said.

"Annika Hansen, daughter of Erin and Magnus Hansen. You have been away for too long. Your place is no longer with the hive. The time has come to leave, and to become part of a new collective and a new future. You are of Earth, and you will return to your true home."

"Irrelevant. Your appeal to our humanity is—"

Before she could finish her argument, she gasped and groaned, squeezing her eyes shut, as the orb of light surrounding Kes enveloped her. "What have you done to us?" Her voice trembled with agony and rage. "Where are the others?"

"You will be an individual now.”

"Wait a minute," Harry said, tapping his controls. "I'm reading a massive energy build-up in the astrogation sensors. Kes, Ghemor, get away from your consoles, now!"

Neither woman obeyed. The Prophet was still connected with Seven of Nine, and Iliana continued working the controls to stop the drone's attempts at sabotage.

Usually, in moments like this, my sense of time would slow down and my awareness would be amplified as my mind focused itself wholly on observing any detail that might be important. This time, however, the whole scene seemed to simply happen all around me, without me taking part in it. I couldn't even process it, but rather, I almost felt like my consciousness disconnected from the rest of my mind and body, and simply floated into the space above my head.

How much time passed between Harry's warning and the power surge, I would never be sure. It happened simultaneously at engineering and flight control. The astrogation sensors overloaded, sending bolts of energy into Iliana, Seven of Nine, and Kes.

As soon as the system blew out, the energy arcs dissipated, and Iliana and Seven of Nine both slumped over their consoles. The Prophet, however, simply absorbed the energy into herself, brightening the orb of light around Kes even more.

A junior officer rushed over to check Iliana. She was alive. They transported to sickbay.

"Talia, reroute helm control to your station and activate visual sensors,” Janeway ordered.

From within my dissociated consciousness, I feared that my body would not respond to her order, that we would be thrown too suddenly from our high warp and slam into an asteroid. Thankfully, my body responded reflexively, inputting the proper commands without even having to think about it, and plotting a safe course for _Voyager_ manually.

"Torres to bridge," came B'Elanna's panicked voice over the com. "The overload took out several plasma conduits, and it's destabilizing our warp field. Ghemor reinforced the core casing just before the surge, but if we don't shut down the warp core soon, we're risking a breach."

Meanwhile, Kes picked up the drone's inert body and moved her away from the console. Returning to the con, which was flickering from the surge, she placed her palms flat on the interface. Immediately, it powered up.

"She's rerouted helm control back to her station," I reported.

"Kes?" Janeway inquired with trepidation.

"The beast is driven back," the Prophet said. "Your first task is now complete. The time has come to move onto the next task. It will test you far more than the first, but billions will be saved if you succeed." Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, the orb of light began to crackle with energy, shining too brightly to even look at.

"Captain," B'Elanna said on the com. "Engine control has been rerouted to the con. The core is beginning to destabilize. I can't stop it and I can't eject the core!"

"Evacuate main engineering," Chakotay ordered.

The ship was rocked by an explosion. "We've just blown one of our main plasma conduits," Harry shouted. "We're emitting magneton pulses from the starboard nacelle."

"We have dropped out of warp," Tuvok added. "The helm is reporting a new speed of one-half impulse."

Chakotay turned to Janeway. "If the Borg didn't know where we were before, they will now."

"Wait a minute," Harry said. "Captain, I'm detecting a subspace matrix beginning to form directly ahead."

"A wormhole?" Janeway asked.

"I— I don't know," he spluttered. "Sensors don't know what to make of it."

Just then, the terminus blossomed like a flower made of gas and light. _Voyager_ drifted inside. Blue streams of blue energy bolts streaked up and down the length of the corridor, and thin, white rings coiled all the way around it.

My console beeped and reoriented itself as helm control was returned to me. At the con, the orb of light around Kes catapulted from her body, out of the ship, and into the subspace corridor. No longer luminescing, Kes collapsed to her hands and knees, trembling from exhaustion.

"We're coming out of the corridor now," Harry reported. On the viewscreen, normal space yawned out in front of us as we crossed the terminus. The wormhole deposited us just outside of a beautiful deep-blue and purple nebula, skirted by stars.

"Report," Janeway said breathlessly.

"According to my sensors, Captain," I said, "we've travelled ten thousand light years forward from our previous location."

Her eyes became glassy as they fell on Kes. "Ten years closer to home.”

Tom stepped over to Kes, helping her to her feet. "The Prophet," Kes said. "She's gone, Captain." Once Tom had helped her into his seat at the con, she directed him to check on Seven of Nine.

Taking a tricorder from the medkit stored in his console, Tom scanned the drone. "She's got minor injuries, and her link to the collective has been severed."

"Kes, did the Prophet tell you where she was going?" Janeway asked.

Kes lifted her gaze to the ceiling, a faint smile carving her lips upward. "On."


End file.
